many wombs broken down smearing weekly wear on store walls
over the nearing stare of copulating gazers
who despite tazers
are sharpening their cage hands and blades with razors.
but I think to worry more about the top where a flip-flop
ceases to be footwear and the agenda is in good care of
corrupt logic and biological hegemony and oligarchic tendencies
offending many many in the nearing starlight
where silly reflection sits
gaily disturbed by we:
a disruption!

I’ve never never not performed a function
or gone head down into towering guilt built on the fruitful fits
of the rich gone mad gone disillusioned and ballooned
careening down monsoons no sooner come than gone
away with a rusty treasure just now sought and understood un-bought
by scores of savage plots begot at the foothills of Satan’s armpit:
left side,
at the hideous heart of selfishness and witless wishlessness.