Zelle: [email protected]

Pillar of Dust

I didn't know my hands were dirty until I
washed them in the
sink.

I blink therefore I breathe.

I think therefore I seethe.

Behold the scenic van people
standing in the IMAX
wasteland;

The pillar of living

Dust...

Grey feet,

Grey legs,

Posture like a ghost,

Hair is gross,

Face like fried eggs on burning

Toast...

Am I a man or a mirage?

Should I go to college, or collage?

Shall I ascend presently to Hoboken

With my broken butterfly

Entourage?

Is this destiny, or sabotage?

I don't want another bloody

Street massage.

Where did I put my civilization camouflage?

Can I move into your

Bird garage?

These are my pajamas.

You may call them dreams.

Resuscitate the cameras.

Photograph the screams.

4.25.26