Three Men Sitting on a Hollow Log

Three men sitting on a hollow log Underneath the mead moon Right Man breathing from a rubber balloon Middle Man quietly thinks a tune Wandering by, three mangy lap dogs Three men sitting on a hollow log Three men sitting on a hollow log Waiting for the maglev train Crystal night, not a spot of rain Sparks inside of Left Man’s brain Right Man biting his lip, agog Three men sitting on a hollow log Three men sitting on a hollow log Each, each other’s companion boon To Middle, the stars around him cocoon Last train to transfer stop arriving soon Headed north out of the old peat bog Three men sitting on a hollow log Three men sitting on a hollow log You could catch the wind coming off the plain Left tries his Zippo’s flint again Right stroking idols of Saints Marcel and Anne Far away from the city smog Three men sitting on a hollow log Three men sitting on a hollow log All for one and one for ruin Reactive Middle suckles thumb wound Left Man’s coat a sort-of pale maroon Salesmen for the demagogue Three men sitting on a hollow log Three men sitting on a hollow log Right, Middle, Left all gaunt as tain Growing behind, a patch of wolf’s bane Waiting as long as they can sustain Anticipating a stern slog Three men sitting on a hollow log