Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Friday, May 10, 2024

Omenomics

 Omenomics: I will sell you the future 

If you believe me enough

And I will point to things

Birds

Stones

The way your dreams burn you clean

Until you wake up covered in sweat

Heart beating


And I will sell you back your own anger

I will be the mirror by which you flex

And I will point to how the movement

Of stars and gravity paint your muscles


No one likes to dream alone

And they are never free

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