the damp fog and thick dirty tide
of
daylights waking dream
and
the slow dry chalkboard scream
of
helpless night-watches
are
experienced with twisted spirit/dim-thrill resignation
that
turns medical curse into dull adventure
struggling on and on over toy obstacles
for the soft treasure
under
the
machines rainbow
its
a
fabricated masquerade of limbic automation
and
coffee
punctuated
by
visions of maiming and murder/burning and abuse
real as french existential thrillers
and
the care glow of citrus hands
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