Cigarette buttered beaches
a system for the nervous
platching paper straws
but nothing is sipping
canary fat and wall strenuousities
exotic kid has no money
at least I have both of my legs
I am bored
barred from the portrait
bored of fashion and omoritmico
board of sadists
who campaign for isolation
Art is up
clocking hands are broken
the painter of my thoughts on a conveyor
stimulants and tissues in his trolley
But he'll never buy no gun
like they'll never buy no book
never sing no song
just kneel to a glass sheet
the loudest mouth tuning their heads
swearing they'll get revenge
howling
so unhappy
being alive
SHUT UP
SHUT UP