Radio Clandestine

once upon a land in a teleological time with

airwaves full of audio grimoires; you can send a Hex-text to your closest enemy

and see their family’s distrust incarnate; electric zealots fall over themselves to control

what’s left of the evidence you gained from that last investigation;  a tin foil hat ain’t protection

but a strait jacket goes straight on if you’re beginning to fall off the straight lines you continue to try & walk on

settle in and let your fingers follow the diagram on the back of the matchbox;  banish those fine wine witches & burn them bleeding barns

raise your awareness; ameliorate your state; go out—puncture pride; speak to the crowd & taste the diffidence; I dare u, I double dare u

I do, I do










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