somebody will say they are bored
this. They are bored and you are boring. In this.
We have bombs. Would you like some bombs.
Sandpaper or dark liquid unevenly applied
a metal edge may account for this discomfort
bombs entrance and confuse us
the author at the song and the nervous kids breaking
What are you prescribing after all. Attachment
our muddled land. You are saying it lives
us abandoned, rent, but famously kind. Even so
here we are.
say it about the empire we find ourselves
the shadow. Sure. Snuggling
the collected body. Where is the fun?
What collapsing wave can carry our repentance
what cloud of numbers arriving in time
loosen the ones always already digging
the solidity of the hole. Their own
matter factly now grants servitude a section
Listen to the poem HERE.