Dress Reversal … 9.10.11.12.13

Numbers march not to return In their footsteps centuries burn Cooped up men yes women too Sipping the same insipid stew The Penguins all on tundra flap clueless hobble on a deceitful gap Dismal blacks pepper the whites cloaking rays from hooded sights Know not that in memories fought in ornate caves are lemmings caught Clueless saplings twirl and turn to catch an eye that they yearn Millions lost to plots and schemes Sold on quirky quixotic dreams In farther lands Lenin is dead yet here he sleeps on a rosy bed