There will be no curtain call for the earth
North of the ice cores as the baton’s exchange
On the beach Of high wired cultured cage
of protested watching solar plexus.
From behind media screeds scratching
At Tailism in the Dirtiest back allez
With mediums that stop at the
humps in the shipping lanes
In search of the sky for the party line
replys and replays that diction why.
Instruments of fleurs as i imagine your not There
sometimes still like the stonemason maelstrom
whom carved your repression and sunk Gods.
The sponsors message to vanitys empty expression
As it burns a pipe lined hole through its varsity
Cherry picker nose in its quest for sugar advertising.