Measure...

Off the bedstead,steadfastly,
Time and motion, time and motion at work,
Mutter, discarded words that matter,
Then take myself out there without a care,
On the coat tails of an idea,
A flimsy notion that floats on volition,
Knowing that I had other things to do.
And others would know too,
If they asked, why?
Why the City on that day?
That day, that Saturday,why,
That is where the measure of a boy is,
Amongst sinful and sensible measuring men.
Sin that is sensed in insubstantial innocence,
Indefinite Dionysian darkness embraced,
Distant of measured Apollonian light.