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Poem

Turning wheels and big bangs and theories
Catcalls in the alley turn into bursts of signal strength
Stretching all the way to the great beyond
Why do some still feel like we don't belong?

While thoughts are churning
The wagon wheels are turning
And the silhouette keeps on yelling
Faster. I said faster
As if the screams are falling 
And falling on deaf ears
Back to the countdown, it's been years

The deacon behind the wheel
A man of serious purpose
With a face made of laughter
Screams just like the deacon would
Faster. I said faster

The Beamer's tires screech and turn
Mean machine. Possessed by the deacon
He is such a speed demon
Demanding and commanding speed
Faster. I said faster

And from fellow travelers
Inside the ferocious carriage
No comment or modicum of courage

Only a tightening of muscles
And laughter. Nervous laughter
As the wheels turn, faster and faster
They will hang on, and ask questions after

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