QED

poesy

88 smiles per hour

this is no time to buy the hollow hearts

 they sell by the corner gas station

 under a newspaper umbrella.

the politics of violence runs the steam train

of washington

 as it barrels down that narrow corridor

erratic.

we speak

 and yet these words

are only fortune cookie maxims

tossed into the sea…

America

that beached whale

filled with rancid beer

 is ready to burst

 and release itself

into that garbage patch

where condoms

 float among other things

that we now happily

digest unknowingly__________.

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