What say you, "work"?
And mean but sport
where minds at play do turn the world of words
on its ungainly head,
shrieking like the Medusa in a thousand tongues
all cut loose from reason and reality.

Work, say I,
where one lies groveling in the filth of facts,
helplessly pinioned 'neith onerous obligations
to that which IS,
not that which could have been or might yet be.