Tonight it is about a
clock and a few loose talks.
It is about breaking sleep. Acid trying to rinse, brush, paddle over
drugged nerves. The liquid strong; the nerves folded . On the shelf.
Like my entrails within.
Next lie the scales. Clanging now. So loud!
Voices round scream and bite.
Modern furies. Melting scenes.
Three neo-noirs into one.
They move fast. Motions freeze.
They scare. Poke blind.
Collapse.
Like wheels crazy, on the run.
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