A search for eternal beauty in ephemeral space
In unending fits of mesh-lined rage
Cracked masks, broken and tamed
Grin of house life, bruised and maimed
Sucker punched by those of age
Like a bug smashing into light, contained

Pushing carts of ashy flour
Into ruined and frozen, factory towers
Sweet salvation, so ******* sour
Succulent melons and cauliflower
Unsure of identity, inner and outer
In petite bourgeois life I cower