this skin crawling under the weather withering
with the ozone leather or is it better a meta-for
pleather this thinning layer we are wearing through
earth air water fire willed like a debt to the sun
or daughter i just couldn’t in good conscience
bear with me it’s hard to tell the future/s well
we’ve all heard the lore envisioned before the wanting
stares lit up by the glare of infrared magazines and telescreens
numbing the census succumbing immense us once too wise
to sound bite-sized the right size to fit inside the box blares
from every living room not to grow but overshadow whispering
sighs and silencing beats rhythm that flows beneath our feet
on softwood floors constructed as yours from under which
they’re stealing our senses revealing the fences erected
undetected within this radiant fluorescence they’re selling
perfection/s/in/essence.
« return.