Surveill'd

(late Sept Dennys/ Oct 10th Frontier 3am)


Had it at last. Petulantly received.
Underscor'd middle management felt below the buckle
of the poverty line
for some new kind of genital disorder,
a disease,
or even a minor phobia
made manifest, in the dewy undergarments
of the frequently distressed.
We have yet to come to any conclusion
however Fleshy, however Concrete
-still, we feel like the cold, silicone,
fetish-handed doctors
have somehow come upon us.
Mis-stated.
But even accustomed as we are
we trip backwards, reeling in disgust,
crack our heads on new unconsciousness.
Lie inert, Concussed.
Soon, too late, we will wake,
in a catalogued place collected.
only to find all private moments departed
for the realm of the soft-core.
Voyeuristic visionaries flicking through our print
as they do their club sandwiches.
- checking for spittle,
or th single wilted leaf
that proves the meal
defective.

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