Walk hand-in-hand with the night.
Everything is niche-marketed,
just act like you’re going somewhere
(not because of the night). Don’t be too
lavish about the moon. Make a pan out of it.
Log the odd misty-eyed moment. This list,
your bridge to the witch’s cottage,
becomes instinct. So you’ve got a thing for the
hairy leg of night? Grab hold of it like a magician.
Filmic ogre, nomadic culture disappoints the rabbit
and dissolves uniformity. Turn down the oven
and wave the radar to wake the radar.
I am not dead. I am not dead.
