Where the Wheel Is No More

Where The Wheel Is No More All aboard, all aboard! The bandwagon departing to the good old times of great is now ready for boarding. Passengers are politely reminded, by command of captain and committee - “Riders are required to relinquish possessions and perceptions of progress. In addition assumptions and aesthetics must not contrast with those of the committee. Riders who resist will be ridiculed and/or removed”. Before the bursting bandwagon could bolt the thirst for pomp circumstanced a bottle was to get it in the neck. A gaggle of geese parted in two, half to be cooked aboard half ceremoniously released to lead the way. Relaxed riders, like of mind and mug conformed to the commanded conditions of carriage (albeit for the possessions part) And readied themselves for take off. Now they were off, on their yay way. Smuggled possessions soon trotted out tapped furiously to refresh a worth, nail an image or two, fill a timeline. One by one each possession of time once present regressed into redundancy; soon along the way riders reckoned upon the lack of cherry picking available to them toward the good old days of great. Bit by bit the bandwagon blew Past the disturbance of the three in seven Past a man tailor making sticks fit for the width of his patron’s thumb Past endless lines of ditches bellowing bullets in a yellow haze Past a population famished to only rag and bones Past cannibalistic traders and herders of people Past singed remains strapped to stakes. Bedlam broke all about the chugging bandwagon (now chasing the released geese as all aboard were cooked). Riders raged, few had kept their pig heads cool; they wanted out but not here, there or anywhere along the route to the good old times of great. Captain and committee contained order piety prevailed to saviour pride, as if history had never been. Great progress was made along the path of regression round many bends they went in search of their destination until alas they went so far the wheel was no more!