Dedicated to all the micro shaven millipedes,

Faxing furtively for allies,

            There is no cease fire for autonomy,

We give you this keyboard. Love it well.

Dedicated to the belching run of Interactionists,

Moving through the morning

Like a soiled free newspaper –

            Pick up the America.

            They eat the keyboard

And all days, a Spiro graph. Every breath, a harsh coffee

And you stare at the window

Likening your animation to the glove of religion.

            How on earth did you get here?