– Laura McCullough –
Message anxiety, here it goes, he comes
he goes he went again, was that him they flew
outta that place? Hot. Shot to the head if sites
set. What he did, man, can you get behind that,
anyone? Yeah, little Hitler crying, smack jab,
did you think anything would be different:
dream transubstantiate dream lux and jade, clean
on holy day, massacre on Monday, then
today the boy filling the snack machine, then
another dragging in the water bottles,
sloshing universe of nothing, dreaming of
digging that hole out on the lawn laying wire,
at least it has health bennies. First to go, last
to know, that’s all of us, son. Here we go.