cellphones in the rubble
dianophonous gems dimly glint
theres a house on the hill
where everything is mint

dimly lit – state of it
the whole place is seeping shit
like a seeping sleeping shift
shifting piles at a moment in time

radar weapons track fecal matter
in the teepee the kettles boiling
the cow is coming HOME for milk
the sugar cane juices like its had an oiling

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