Unlocking doors with chicken bones,
and the man who sits under the archway
with his dead eyes tells people who talk
to him that he used to spend his nights
walking the streets; beating people up
for their money.
Sleeping in passenger seats of cars
is becoming a new standard for people.
Wanderers who wear the same suit everyday
ask simply for a tray to place left over food
so they don’t have to dig through the garbage.
We treat our own like we do feral animals
and vermin when they don’t have a punch
card in their front pocket weighing them down
and dragging them in the same loop perpetually.
It’s not enough to play by their rules either, you
have to lie about everything and admit they’re right.
It’s been so long since the hills of this country have
seen complete violence between two sides of one
argument, or maybe it hasn’t depending on how you
look at it. Either way the caves have all been sealed
shut, and the clouds above us have veins that are hotter
than the surface of the sun.
Teleporting Typewriter 