Dogs bunker.

Eating at tables of double whipped cream 

As motorbikes rivals for the old island

As it roots for the keys to undo the Thirteenth 

Found wearing the dogs tags and 

Dancing around debunkered hats.
Conceding Its self styled nature that 

it so casually wore as it lost sleeves in the swell 

and resolves within a mirrored garden.
the earwigs swim in the watermarked scripts 

Scanning heads of others when the right 

Is left with the once bright idea of confidential 

And Is exposed in named bowling lanes.
Conceding its self styled nature that it 

casually wore as it lost its sleeves in the swell 

and resolves within a mirrored garden.
Poor  lyre blames its vocal tools 

Under glowing gum and sorbitol sticks

As it plays in the cold portal of blue light sick. 
And If I told you a decade could be lost in a day 

If you Wear a water logged star when you fly

You wouldn’t Believe my bullet point eyes.
Conceding its self styled nature that it 

causually wore as it lost it sleeves in the swell 

and resolves within a mirrored garden.

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