It is admirable to do things other than touching one another
I'm talking here about language -- its fumes, and miniature arguments
The visio diagram we drew won't take us anywhere 
This is a salute to desire as the mad ones linger behind
We ride the cart -- socialist and business strategists
To go there - a clean suburb of Facebook posts

It is an ending world, so no one writes us
In the middle of it I mentioned you
And now I am Northbound -- 
So I cry when seeing things melting -
In this great melting pot

Feeding our devices electricity
They produce imaginary lovers
And white collar immigrants:
Tonight I'll hitchhike 
Through many doorknobs 
Maybe all of this hinges on Aristotle
We still have to find an exit strategy
Through these black and white squares

Poets should save us from happiness
Out in the lab they are studying the natives
I vowed to stay cryptic
As I am keeping you posted
About the joys of life
And as I touch you 
As if we exist
I will keep looking in design books
For shapes that help the world
Drag its infinity behind

The poor don't exist
They die
Then reincarnate even poorer
Trapping nightmares
An excuse for voice over
& flying objects exporting intimacies
Try us again tomorrow
We would have marked the streets
With over the counter banalities

Life is browse-able
& it can be substituted for salt
It is also sufficient to conduct few experiments 
(Over and over)
The class war is founded on good mathematics
And death is an old fashioned calculus
That will always arrive suddenly
To help cure fifteen layers of sadness

Back to the conceptualism of rain
Under the burden of choosing sides
A skinny sniper sends his bullets
Into Harold Bloom's guarded Canon
What is the ethics of fucking
Under civil war manufactured tweets?
I draw my line at 3:00 p.m.
And at crosswalks of trees
The desert will come and go
As often as rain