I feel the grit and do an about face.
I turn to the right for space.
To the left for haughty disgrace.
I spin about and guess.
My fortune seems to rest
hugging the ground at best.
But the probe turns upside-down.
I fall through and all around
the earth buries me in sound.
Never will I move
except to make a groove.
I always come and remove.
And now I’m at an end.
For once let me extend
into the night and bend.