Can of dry leaves

On a deserted Plain

Sits easy and steady

While dust piles around you

All the same


Aghast were the ghosts

Who frollicked and moped


68 flame retardant neo-phytes

Left themselves busted

Not a nickel in sight


The road is empty

No law men around

Nothing but

The deafening shatter of sound


Plastic touches itself in front of millions

A synthesis of pure **** evil

A sliver of a far-off faint snivel


Rats red eyed and fat

Sincerely to thee

I've laid

Much better shats