you're fission so inexplicable
you're season wrought in moments
your cymbals, crash and ride
your congenial formation cements
she pauses to relish
a bright side like galathea scooping abyssal depths
half lives mimicking of loser posers tripping the realm of rock fusion
promises of redemption in the after-life
blowing pan-pipes, busking on streets unlike anything ever
while others markedly mobile
we are tritons trapped and riddled for demolition
how eyes and suckers
walking a carnivorous path pumping fossils these drone societies
are at war
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