through the eyes of a young suicidal man
the world is every city light
blowing up at midnight,
an army outside your windows,
the screams of the unseen
in slaughterhouse slums.
her, in bed with somebody else,
when you can't fall asleep,
17 cans of tuna a week,
a wolf howling
at the meteor crashing down on us,
a hail of diseased needles,
and every murdered smile
behind airport gates.
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