Pissin’ In The Wind Up A Mountain

As Sisyphus took a piss into the wind

‘Neath the boulder, eternal his place,

His decision, at once, did he wish to rescind,

When the warm assault seasoned his face.

Ω

Dejected, defeated, and dripping with pee,

Compounded belabored humility.

His abysmal existence doomed always to be

But a sick exercise in futility.

Ω

Ineffectual, vain, unavailing, at that,

Was this feckless, ill-fated Olympian.

But the way that shit just seemed to roll for this cat

Was decidedly duly Sisyphean.