I sit here
Me and Dillinger
We're both pretty sad
I'm watching him because Ricky went to go see Trish in Brooklyn
He misses Ricky
I've sunken deep into a chair that used to be mine
Smoking dry flakes
The black rectangle
The missing front to an empty drawer
A part of the world that doesn't quite fit
Like those robot lights at the Rail
Systematically shucking and jiving
Like a futuristic exterminator shooting invisible lasers
It commands attention
This booming black rectangle
It holds all of my fears, the hotlink to my stowed pricklers
A window to the unknown
It sucks me in
It becomes whatever is on the tip of my mind's tongue
Werewolves
Gloria
Gloria
Ants and Giants
Giants walk around and spit on gatherings of the small things
The tiny people try to swim out of the plasmic jelly
They struggle until it's over and the giant thinks nothing of it
Like tearing a leaf or smoothing out an ant hill
Everything is something else's god
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