Three masked sapiens on the sidewalk in queens pieces of the puzzle parade working the scene it will end with a fake orgasm Life shuffles of beyond reproach to mutate for its own sake I catch it in the subway humbled with the masses We ride the same breath from jamaica station to norwood escape We hide in demon space hundreds of invisible masks parched covenants with skeletal closets I drag my reluctant shadow out of the station into the bodega fix Life rumbles on I catch the mundane murmur behind their masquerade
Kind of "Post human" as I read on someone's poem on AsIs :-)
Simon
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