chew down on sugar cube nights,
rotting teeth stench and fun-dip air vents,
who pulled up those blinds cockeyed
with the lights on now our whole life displayed?
nobody walks by here anyway, 'least of all
when it's streetlamp dark and the sidewalks cool,
walk. On tuesday night out come the trash cans,
pulled by cursing mouths and slick hands,
wet with micro-bacterial slime. And what, man!
How? that's the sound of tin plastic concrete
scratching on your mind. what of the recycle bin?
That shit just goes out beer bottles and pickle jars
clean. Our accumulated wealth and tummy tuck glut.
I wonder what the situation is with this car with the lights on
down the block? Not sure I've seen that shadow before
god knows if the asshole even lives around here.
Keep an eye on the blank drivers seat,
our windows no longer lock up tight,
you can see the voyuer case the joint, with 100 drawn
shift perfect eyes. Our privacy is obsolete.