This is not about seduction
It is about hanging out tonight 
While surrounded by capitalism
It rains
And we call it love
This continuous threat of collapse

I want to be lost in Seattle dimness 
Turning slowly into a nature poet
Writing about leaves changing colors
And ugly highways - I will ride the bus to work
And hide from the passengers - I will 
Also hide hope in an okay refrigerator

We have to accept the naivete of the of the world
As money moves us from one parking lot to the next
While chanting useless words to mark our involvement 
In these deaths -- now I look at a long street daily
And it doesn't help to think of the division of labor
As the starting point of this tragedy

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