New Parade as Smog
there is a series of predictable problems
domains in flame
all feasible desires of the soul costume
no nature plants the cars in stricken spume
your supposed past with sense data attachments
you can just reach it with a chopstick in a 2x2x2 cube
say body tantrums, dandruff and tampons
say pons pons and bons bons
say cinnamon and sugar in other people’s eyes
what it waz was a drive through a poignant headline
overwrought rent paid with a stiff elegy
don’t bother to don yon seaflakes
deep archaic reason
at the tower’s exposed tit