Buzz sows the bee as it flies to the end of the string that ties it to its hive
Buzzsaw goes the tree that flies through the air to the end of the logjam
Buzz so oh go sow the bow and arrow that try for the air race to the conference of the Holy Ones
Buzz sow the words of the ep-I, the luck of the draw sows for nowt.
It is for all to see and hear that it all gets in the end of the frame and to the end of the picture
Where it is all a frame-up of the worst complexion, the frame of the world goes back and in
To the start of the new frame that is something worse that before
And it is the truth of it that it is
And stain it does upon the wrist of the neighbour of St Anne the August.
It withers and so dies upon the vine of hope where the seed of time
Gets a germinant for the excuse called the Timeless zone
Where no frame exists.
It is a not and a no not a know but a nihilistic No!