there’s some demented mantra in this empty tin-can.
on perpetual rewind. the neighbors are laughing.
these brittle bones have grown up angry.
you have heart. mine’s been marching in it’s place. we can’t go nowhere.
and gnaw. at the various parts.
quietly pissed off. sit with me.
all the normal things in-between you and me. i don’t care to understand.
the neighbors keep on.
you unsettle me.