you there
with the basket,
slinking in alleyways
between siren
street lights
turn your head to this unfeeling world
there's no reason
to do what we do
to have to do what you've done
go on home
rest your eyes
we've come this far for fields of green
wasted all our trees
killed all your sisters brothers mothers we
don't hide your face
under florescent bulbs
I know who you are
but I won't out you
we are both on the lam
you turning the corner
me here
immobile
silent
waiting to be slaughtered.
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