Accounts Payable

...  cantered light-heartedly downstream to their doom. — Patrick Leigh Fermor Somebody down there hates us deeply, Has planted a thorn where slightest woe may overrun. Disorderly and youthful sorrow, many divots picked at since Across the thrice-hounded comfort zone. Can’t cut it, sees permanent crones Encroaching aside likely lanes of executive tar All spread skyward. You got the picture, Bub: This world is ours no more, And those other euphemisms for grimly twisting wrath, A wire-mesh semblance bedecked With twilight’s steamy regard. Look at the wind out here. Delete imperative. Hours where money rinses life like sex, Whichever nowadays serves as its signifier.