in this recent knot of days
the vile prickle of pills
is entirely political / these
grimy days, yeh, their static
preposterous symmetry / so
the side effects are, well
like this: its 11. 58, precisely
an entire molecular assembly
a ring of executive flats
a cheap solar monopoly. But,
I dunno, from another angle,
here on public transport
skirting the planets rim
pretty drunks are crackling
as I was out walking
the stiff prickling days
their numerical fallacy
gaunt fascist symmetry
ok. fuck that. lets see
we were in the anxious
centre of us, it was like
plastic fire, fuck your cars
& the moon, strangely
as I was out walking
it was like five layers
a small town, a feather
bed / filled with weapons
o hell / my burning thighs
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