Glean Trou
for your dream voice, exploited primal fear
synthetic over time, neutralized capture
constructed allegorical, boring oxygen whirl
Two by two, we marched to the bossa nova
tiny revolution, absorbing the very aesthetic
go to the top and back down, all the real fun
hideaway behaviors, loosened wrath
unfit for the socialite, we actors and insurgents
coming emissions, under her dress
Chesterfield broken crosses
vehemently venomous, two teeth missing, small soul hate
heavy shoulders, a fancy little smile
transfigured attempt, that spoke of his flippancy
still waiting for the artificial, infiltrate and remember
I am dead, like a diminutive Jesus
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