Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Blahg.

Cars scrape by
Dead Milkmen have nothing to say
but
bitchin' camaro ...
bitchin' camaro ...

If I emerge from the fire
will I then be hardened,
tempered against the iron will
of drivers
who --
mindlessly
guided by reptilian brains --
seek to ignore my existence?

Bearings and grease --
grist for the mill
of revolution.

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