Dreaming
of porches
signs of life
anti-bug torches.
Friends,
drinks that talk
they shout
laugh them off.
Soon
there will be no cars,
no trains that bloom,
we'll crawl to move.
Maybe
we'll sleep
the dreams that plague
we'll feed.
Tongues
that seep out the bitter
will salivate the sweet.
When
our brains recede
hand in hand
we'll proceed
The shine
from our being
will rise above
all cities.
Wonder:
what all this is for
until air becomes no more
Wonder:
what future is for
the rich eventually become poor
Wonder:
what wonder is for
I won't wander anymore.
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