the youth erasing the target, replacing the truth.

the media misshaping the media and withholding the glass case,
the roses,
the insanity facing the face at the heart of the only postmodern hope.

shrapnel still left from the vast renaissance of metal and plastic,
the codes to the unmoving fingers are random and
poisoning is now the noblest way the die into yourself
without the aid of endless sirens or candidates.