Obvious Treasons

The right side of the wormhole is far to my left. Subjects in tater tots and bacon bits. Force the tunnel open. Random dialogue. Prowls the fraying ends. Of lions' manes. And broken tethers. Following the balls we've spun around this cement.

I'm drowning in atoms. Waiting for the bomb. Chasing the architect who would design such lopsided heavens.

She meets the lamb in secret. She confesses the wolf in random coughs. Minor ghosts patrol the graveyard only stones have kept.

Catching the hour pretending she warns it that everything is gone. Travelling time she realizes. Nothing changes. And everyone forgets.

A cold hierarchy of arrogant buttons that do nothing.

A relentless coup of skin. Taking everything away.

A world of machines. Lost in the wisdom of failing mechanics. An eye in her wounds. Managing the panic.