Kitha

I think I'll go home and mull this over 
Before I cram it down my throat 
At long last it's crashed, its colossal mass 
Has broken up into bits in my moat.

It's a luscious mix of words and tricks 
That let us bet when we know we should fold
On rocks i dreamt of where we'd stepped 
And of the whole mess of roads we're now on.