No Song

I’m watching and waiting for something to happen. See the signs and cosines, but no signs of action. That translation was lost, or did we ever have it? All the versions were logged; it was the boss’s habit. “I’ve already signed several of your confessions. Your remedial math and your grammar lessons.” Chase your thrills, climb the hills to find the whitest rabbit. “When we audit your performance we find something lacking.” No song was ever that long. You’ve got the lyrics all wrong. I can’t remember that song, however cleverly you sing along. The miles keep rolling over. Polygraphs pay the bills and the pills that you take tend to stick in your craw and you wake up expecting, directing the traffic out of your back bedroom, that red room where I sat and straightened the doormat. I bet you never even saw that. You’re only listening to “Like That!” And I just can’t understand that.