We are the wall people./

We are the wall people.

The dog won't have to fetch the ball,

if it bounces right back.

We are the wall people, the pond people.

There is never any shortage of fish.

We eat little.

They propogate madly.

We don't even have to fish.  They just

pop up and plop into our nets,

flopping in shock.

We have seen the world in our pond.

We've had visitors from the outside.  We

used to be the more thoughtful, philosophical ones.

Now, we take a rest--it's all relative, anyway.

Just that, there's no meaning.  We have seen it all, or

eaten it all.

We are the wall people,

pondering wheels.  We hope that

death is an accident.