TECHNICAL DEVELOPMENT

You’ll see that look unsettled, brief,

old men, old women: in dumb stares

lost, exiting by entrance stairs,

and gazes asking: “What’s the beef?”

The world’s their pressing bathyscaphe,

as submerged they try out new styles,

which have all been, ‘least once, all-while

to break first status pliant, brave…

Their gravity as yet unlifted

by elevators, aeroplanes…

Death will their strife conclude, no more,

before their rural huts encage

to be their drama setting stage

– so suitable as Elsinore.