Few understand the technique : The way (that) I push the walk signal so that the whole of everything disintegrates.with the touch of *******
On the smooth metal The micro abrasions pressed into the
skin swirls
The indifference and calm The static reliance on wires that go unseen until they are worthless
The firey sun dripping like egg yolk over the city
[It makes up for the ink stains on train seats It makes up for the neighborhoods we donβt go to anymore It makes up for the way I never learn.]
The train had come when I was nascent to the platform New comer to the expectant (waiting) mob Threw down my membership card and boarded, back turned towards the moon