We become unstable
unable to make distinctions
they make predictions
on when the end will come.

Put out an A.P.B.
on the big guy
let's call him Cyclops
and paint him with one eye
in a central location,

media and communication,

we **** them with sound bites
fly
vampires in hot nights
whispering.
wings
things are unfixed
broken all mixed up
unstable.

The Cyclops with one eye
sees more than I
and me
with two blue portholes
one either side of my nose,
the big guy knows it too
but the boys in blue are
looking for him.

I'm scanning through notes on a Tuesday
already looking to escape.