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
