Wheel

All they need is a hole that rolls -
a wheel isn't a mind.
...a wheel to 'wagon' their lives;
design for design.

A hole they can control,
emptiness that may be contained -
a circle they may unravel
and stretch into a line.

A device running clandestine,
a replaceable existence -
all they need is a hole that rolls,
a man but a turbine.

And when he dies of rot
or because he 'thought' -
the tables are turned:
the wagon stops.

The wagon stops.
Suddenly 'it's time'.