under the cynicism,
there is a a human being.
sensing the zeitgeist
is a merchant talent.
Receivership
is at a standstill.
live in paintings,
a collection of texts and tweets.
and the productivity of chaos,
fictive as the shop closes to lifters.
She wishes her boyfriend
were more like me.
we're all custodians
of an idea traveling through time.
we must choose the change,
nut suffer it.
as a suspect,
wallowing in pathos,
I must be beyond reproach.