Is this the barely
Chiaroscuro of our moon-
like privacy breaking like
Our hearts privately
Into beams?
I want to be in a band,
A poetry band, this is for you
This wreckage Bruce and
Melissa, unlikely pair
Of you tonight
Anarchy of your
Alternative gathering spaces,
Aggressive affect and calm
The person starts again
From pure sound
Materiality of sound,
We are shock effects,
Hypnosis heard through
Orange command, holes we were
Sucked through
On our way to being,
Into another future, I want
To get this armor off
But rhetoric sticks
To substance
Like a permanent
War of subjects, where it wasn’t
Clear who or what was subject,
Just that sense ignited
Some sense of us.
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