The concrete and smug mind
is by its own gravity
pulled, in synchronicity
with its own elliptical orbit
moving perpetually
and predictably.

No other world is perceived
beyond the narrow strictures
of the comfort zone, clockwork
regularity the be all and end all.

It is a closed system

of bounded rationality
or rather circular irrationality
with its own universe of meanings
which must there cohere
if anywhere,

cherished wishfulness confirmed

and iteratively reconfirmed.

Even when the die gets cast

there is a strenuous denial

of what fate dishes out,

far too unpalatable

to reckon with and accept,

grace and decorum dispensable,

a machinery of machinations

mobilised for defence.