Pure product of isolationist policy: no
gross product of atomization
Lean back & kiss your father’s hands if you
can find them

      Idle

Rotate tires for disinterest

There’s this nexus there’s
a depot sprawling in the back of your mind

Time after time I do not raise glasses or lift grudges
This your patriot demeanor

     Break

Play with the shortness of your breath
& the speckled nature of your vision

There is a constant village
an ecstatic gathering
assembled in open wire around your brain a plastic
candy jar for entertainment

It’ll work wonders

for your skin, for the realization you
are about to make, embrace it