a great, wide, wasting worldwide
full of sluts & saviors — strangers
painted & made-up, jaded & haze-eyed
we're pretenders & preachers playing with dangers
we're a techno-rapt culture — a collective & banal bride
a powered-down populace of bored, idle bootleggers
our eyes are tight-shut as we clamber across a coaxing divide
a pain-painted straddler falls away from our averted eyes & ears
his screaming fades far away while we pretend that no one hears
we'll pass the gutter where he lies
& assume a cavalier & blameless guise,
but behind a barred, dark door
is where the soul decays some more
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