Three Men Sitting on a Hollow Log

Three men sitting on a hollow log
Underneath the mead moon
Right Man breathing from a rubber balloon
Middle Man quietly thinks a tune
Wandering by, three mangy lap dogs
Three men sitting on a hollow log

Three men sitting on a hollow log
Waiting for the maglev train
Crystal night, not a spot of rain
Sparks inside of Left Man’s brain
Right Man biting his lip, agog
Three men sitting on a hollow log

Three men sitting on a hollow log
Each, each other’s companion boon
To Middle, the stars around him cocoon
Last train to transfer stop arriving soon
Headed north out of the old peat bog
Three men sitting on a hollow log

Three men sitting on a hollow log
You could catch the wind coming off the plain
Left tries his Zippo’s flint again
Right stroking idols of Saints Marcel and Anne
Far away from the city smog
Three men sitting on a hollow log

Three men sitting on a hollow log
All for one and one for ruin
Reactive Middle suckles thumb wound
Left Man’s coat a sort-of pale maroon
Salesmen for the demagogue
Three men sitting on a hollow log

Three men sitting on a hollow log
Right, Middle, Left all gaunt as tain
Growing behind, a patch of wolf’s bane
Waiting as long as they can sustain
Anticipating a stern slog
Three men sitting on a hollow log