black and white heads
bent over manuscript page,
a turning dial, where?
out there,
the color of the world is blue,
between my windowsill
and me is stitched harmony,
the faraway,
what's a contrail to entrails
of the twisting city mind?
it is ever expanding
eating green yellow brown
chewing west soft solid hard
spewing gray smoke char,
black and white hands
planting dead tree effigies,
locked in potted soil, how?
in there,
the scent of the world is artificial,
within my body
is swilled chemicals and abstraction,
a holocaust,
What's another sip to numb lips
a bottle cap blocking the digestive tract?
it is ever replaceable
branding new copyrights
into rotting fleshlights
spewing irradiated sperm,
black and white feet
step on yellowed edges,
bent to the last eye, when?
from there,
the last of us wait for the signal flare,
from my eyes
the distilled images of television fantasies,
a swarm,
what's next on the schedule
the next lifetime to be archived and marked for erasure?
once something is destroyed
it can be understood
once something is dead
there is nothing left
we can learn from it.
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