High Modernism

The pendulum of classicism
does not worship the past, it moves,
starting new grooves while retaining
the same brain, the swinging
weight never stagnates, the earth
rotates, yet it stays, while the rays
of the sun permeate the skin,
the thin membrane breaks when
the old scars have healed,
the wheels travel down the proven
path, and the last man resembles
the first; we thirst for the new
although the grooves rarily change,
they bore us to death, classicism
progresses yet remains the same.