The Whole Shebang

I made a very questionable career move years ago—in deciding not to publish much until I matured a bit. Who knew it would take so long—or that the nature of publishing would change so much? And so, the poem I’m about to give you isn't like some of the poems I’ve offered on the Internet. I didn’t store it for 5, 10, or 15 years in my cellar, as if it were some rough wine, that might lose its abrasive tannins, with the passing of time.

This one came in about an hour ago...and as recently as 5 minutes ago, it seemed finished. But lately, like a struck temple bell reverberating, I’ve become uncertain in discerning the precise ending of anything...So maybe this poem isn’t really finished yet. Or maybe it is.  I’ll let you decide. But it is a bit dystopian. And its title is... This Whole Shebang