I lay upon a spineless back
And track my lifelines
Through the lack
Of cultured backlash
When I should have hacked the
Hell from forces tugging to the
   left
      and 
         right
And fight
   for guts to
      light the night
Of compromise and 
   cheap delight
Where I was found to be
In high demand 
For standard soft-shoe
Buttered slop
To feed suburban
   petting zoos

(c) 1996 James Oliver Smith, Jr