the city like a shape traced in the snow by pissing
drunks
buildings functional as discarded cardboard boxes
for gilded turds
omnipresent electric wires like scratches scored in the
enamel of the sky
and the sound of traffic trickling like sewage down
even if it's the only thing going
it's a waste of good neurons
to channel the smell of this stinking life
shmoetry
Surrealism
Test Center home