Prove your identity
Don’t? then make dead ends meet
Stampedes of stamps bleed
Reverse your entry steed
6 feet deep lede
With no talk of walkbacks
You can see the whole sentence recede
No easy feat
As half of halved lives turn to debris
Certainly the country is free
The prosper machine runs while it bleeds
Foots crushed with speed
Winds rise from antecedent centipedes
A glass box turned back to rare earth peat
Ionizing radiation required to unlock phone securely


Masticating razors

Fill in the margins of intentions
With bilirubinous sunsets
That look awe-inspiring from distances
But the closer you get
Barbs materialize within your being
The more you move
The more you prove everybody’s point
The one that you don’t “get” apparently
So yet, you rush to struggle to explain
While all else look at the reddening sky