my pants are forgetful things
cataleptic things
like my legs they hang off me loosely
prop me up
recite false identities
old memories of the factory floor
lines of vein strung up
intertwined
torn apart
placed in line
re-branded
re-imagined
my pants act as if they are real
as if they are invincible inimical things
but they are fated to fade away before my eyes
become old immortal heroes
star of fantastic stories become myth
bawdy song
my pants are tragic sad figures
hidden behind the veil
given no burial
prepared no warriors demise
merely a plastic lined grave
marked only by the miles
miles miles
and the wear
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