Neon
We're in love with the modern
world, Lighter than air,
primordial, solar-
orange. First arcade then
wasteland, where kids circle,
kids circle tubes
&. Modern- the
modern world. Come
Empire and chicken,
pools on the pound shop
roof, of light. Of purified gas,
a bright disco of
inert mouths. Noble
outed in the aftermath of
a missing church, broken
noses. An ache of shoppers
with craning necks, the rain,
in love, the world.
Infinite spark, birthing balls,
cries in fluorescence,
the gas/air of labour,
the pain of care, of un.
Geezers hold tight in their hearts,
a mother grasps onto a
moment- hair collapsing
upon her naked back.
In lust, in wilderness,
fragile as the skull of a bird,
dreaming only of England,
of love- her electric arc.
Why do I understand your stuff when it doesn't make sense? On second thoughts, don't answer that!
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