Pounds of flesh ream.
The eyes are fastened,
Dreaming the dream,
The mind is relaxed,
Predicting a scheme.
Then, resonant thunder,
The cease of a scream.
The orbs are forced opened
By the great geared machine.
Bones creak with attack
To gravity's muse,
Trips over a table
And puts on his shoes.
Eminent rumbles
...