Inkblot

Sickness poverty
White whining
New American routine:
WHEEEEEEE
Enjoy the slide

In the stop at the bottom
Clarity
You’re never happy unless
some parent’s jiggling house keys
over your face

Flat on your back:
WHEEEEEEEE
Can you feel 
Earth rotating

Someone’s broken into old coffins
Stolen the skulls
Put em up on a pedestal on the Internet
Someone says:
WHEEEEEEEE
Worship here or don’t
Techno-heathen is the new black

This is
A test of the emergency broadcast system
Every time we hear the signal we say:
WHEEEEEEEE
This time it’s for real

We’re pretty sure we know
what’s what
We’re pretty sure what’s up
We’re pretty
Sure
We’re up but we’re unsteady:
WHEEEEEEEE

At bat in the fields of the mock-pocalypse
and every day’s a sinker we can’t hit