And so what if the records are stolen?
The mediocre borrow, the great ones
Keep! Ubiquity needs isolation
To pull new unities at will, undone
From the ties of all-to-all, and reapplied
To a singular path before the whole,
The eccentric way of the countryside
Sending all its saviors to the circle
To play strange notes on familiar instruments;
The airs of humus fill the cities with scents,
And they're faced with a choice, to join or split—
They don't like it but can't turn their ears away.
It is merely the call to their own way.
Will they listen, or toss dead blooms against it?
