Headaches in the drawers of time
Quick babies running through airports
have curly-blue souls
Without pen or consciousness
I wait for the birds of love
Three shoes two touchdowns a memory
Sounds in my head
like carpenters pounding nails
into videos
I'm a whirlwind of experience
Resumé with orange sauce on it
My narrative begins with a loss of identity
I don't know the body
The doctor looks through a magnifying glass
at the wart above my eyebrow
and writes "seborrheic keratosis"
on a pad of paper with his address
Newspapers report the loss of ozone
I'm melting like wrong attitude wax feathers
It's no use to talk of a Wilderness of Malls
Fingertip skills of the next century
How it will be possible to click on computers
and delete genes not to our liking
off DNA molecules
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