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Frankfurt's Glorified Albatross/Hanger's On
I can hear crafting things
I can hear it up the ceiling
I can tame it with no feeling
I can take it down or forward

What is it?
The freedom you left in the sink
The starboard you left under the tree
They don't care about your seeds
They don't care, for they're dusty and lame
And breaks
Their map in two
Their creamy distortion
Thinning inside a preacher's tote
Threading the safe tickings of a cardboard klepto-clock

Entranced
Enticed
Exciting the sense of entitlement
Tilting this reading
When it's time to go
Without sour ID's
In the friendless fire

He doesn't know
She doesn't know
No one knows
The wayfare curtain
The funny faces
In our phones
The words we never learned
The hope

Jesus
The hope
For more tomorrow's
Guaranteed to be
Different?
Or the same?
Either way
Both drenched
In reverbed minutes
With something resembling
Dreams
Niceties
But screeching
Like banshees