1.
the
old stone church tower
up on the marsh hill
is
always
aroused
pushing its godhead
up
over
the
shopping cement sprawl
that
diminishes
its symbol
but never its
hard
architecture
2.
never looking up
are
the
mice men
rat boys
and eyebrow girls
busy
with
plastic
and fries
never looking up
3.
under
steel and glass
i sip my coffee
and
i count my pains
in
the
indoor muted hubbub
the
human highway has become
3.
in a fuckchain foodhouse
i
eat a sandwich / tastes of packing foam
and
write
some more tesco-ftown-meh-drek
thats
like
sitting doing awkward shitting
laying behind me
a
dump
that still itches deep
when
i am
done
from photolibra.com
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