The postmortem note said something like
Failure to thrive which in this sort of world
Is part of being alive as we cope with it all
Trying to make a joke of the fall from grace
When we crashed on this place from parts

Unknown having flown the ether to locate
Some stable state of being where we live
In agreement with the forces that bind us
Before the rattle shall find us alone in our
Lofts with our minds gone all soft and our
World a total loss as we clutch the source
Of a happy despair conjuring pleasure out
Of thin air that we can’t breathe anywhere
Except where the premium has been paid

And so we’ve laid ourselves to rest at this
Base of the western edge that has brought
Us to the logical end always foretold that
We would have too much of life to survive

—

Note: It’s been a while, not for lack of interest but of time — which is kind of the theme of this real-time riff. More soon…