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.