The Sunday Whirl has a set of words, for a Wordle;
sign, lame, chime, tethered shine, game, erotic, card, tame, soft, found.
Sign in, Clock off.
Pick a card! Go on, any card!
Did you win? Of course not.
The game is fixed.
What starts as a sweaty coupling,
Erotic or cold, functional,
Has its own rules, I’ve found.
Nothing you can anticipate,
Nothing tethered to logic.
It’s a racket. It’s a con.
It’s barely here before it’s gone.
The fates roll the dice, it’s loaded,
Spin the wheel, it’s rigged,
Shuffle the deck and stack it.
Nothing matches, nothing rhymes.
Sitting, lordly, the Gods, watching, amused.
Visiting their whim upon the fit and lame,
The wild and tame,
The timid and game.
Soft option, or hard, it’s all the same.
Daily, the rise, the shine and set.
People live and die, eat and work, beget.
Time marches, relentlessly forward,
Until it strikes the hour. Your hour.
Can you hear the chimes?
.
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© 2021 J Cosmo Newbery
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