It’s a bad name, a false name,
A square plug for a round hole,
It’s never going to fit like that.
That’s how you break things,
Precious things,
And fragile things.

The inner-eye of the Bene,
Has to keep watching,
So I will stop now.
I can stop. I will stop.
Any second. Any minute.
Any hour. Any day now.
I can stop a bad fit,
Can’t I? If I say no,
Or no more – or stop?
If I scream until I pass out?

Only the ratios and proportions matter,
Silver and gold conductors,
That gets circles to circles,
Not stuck with the squares,
The villains of my geometry,
Whose curvature isn’t there..
The bent in Heaven’s sent –
That pays hell’s bloody rent.
Disturbed and confused,
Broken and bemused,
Now lost,
In the after thinking blind,
To the things I once were,
That I must now leave behind.