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9-5 In the Fourth House of Mercury
Life is a smudge and death is a swipe
Written by floating fingers on walls
Riddles only prophets comprehend
Provoking poor lay minds to wonder
To compose theories based on data
Which is inconclusive at the best
To create worlds where gods are noble
And beyond human understanding
But do Thoth and Azreal really
Play the parts of the moon to the sun?
Or are their morbid soul-counts tallies
Scratches on their desks, stats in their books?
Which will be assessed at the review
Do they crush meteors underfoot?
As they hasten on for “The Dipper”
Their favorite bar in Cospolis
Do they punch out early from their jobs?
To avoid the Milky Way traffic
Pushing eighty as they cruise across
The heavenly asphalt in their cars
Do they rinse off the day-to-day dust
With shots of magic? A drunk stupor
Laughing at the Moirae like they do
Exchanging that kind of silent joke
Do they go back to work on Monday
With mars noses and Saturn eye rings
To continue their same mundane jobs?
Are these our gods and guides to our lives?
Why do they deserve their pedestals?
When is was because of us they are
We should not worship what we create