say it with
words. plastic is one thing u can't fake.
work makes a web in which we wait
for chance to deliver fuel for narrative
one of these long and lonely nights
you'll spit out the cliche you now eat.
pert aphorisms light up our eyes
trickling metal in the gutter thickens
my throat is clear
the bruise on the cheekbone
echoes an earlier ego wound.
jesus takes the world too personally
our little crimes show
free choice takes more time than
day allows. we're nothing
but taught nerves and language
the howling dog feels like caught wolf
we were not ourselves
history is an accumulation
of bits to put to use