.
Lugging my exploded home
And trampling on my own name,
I trek to a yearned deformation.
Imperial chaos hacks flesh,
Sends the unmeshed towards a
Capsized horizon. They dream
Of clean graphic design, houses
That don’t collapse onto cribs.
Invaded, the invaded invade
The invaders’ kitchens and,
Soon enough, bedrooms. Look,
They’re invading each other.
Shut up, smug face, you know
Nothing of ugliness, even that
Which you’ve long bankrolled.
.
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