tightrope

waiting for the spilled throng to make space I blend
destructive and quick virus
legs move preprogrammed interzone
buzzing on the music box earplugs thinking
funny small thoughts remixed by
martin hannett riding the board in mai hed god

the subways long and vibrates with the breathing of a million
dreamers and somehow in the mad mob you snooze deeper
than bedsleep ruffled awake by the coos of a child looking very seriously at a
big mac in her distracted moms lap and

lowfi announcements as you exit through a claw of coiled cobrafaced seathunters up
the stairs doubletime faster than plague death cant quit the fucking cigs still
running on a bad knee daydreaming weird weekends that calendars and all i
never quite live might as well
study the ads in the hallways miniature vacations in the clumsy photographs

feeling like a cliche when
it hurts to laugh