Inside-Out/ Micro-Macro, It’s All The Same To Me

Make out during the apocalypse

Take the last magazine clip

Balls nailed to the walls so they can’t be kicked

See stains as a map of who’s been here

World records

Across the synapses

Make out as we go down

Make out we’re not here

And as we’re lashed

And displaced in time

We make out its where we always


And as for the brain’s needs

I cut the bio-feeds

Don’t be afraid

It’s just starvation

And this dying star’s salvation

As this world ends I’m calm

Because we can wonder


‘What the hell was all that about?’



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