fallen on the desktops of old distractions.
Hey you, did you ever intend to reach through ancient perfume
and grasp the fumes as they warbled the lips of rose petals in your room?
These bastard white shirts
in ties with Rolex Roladexes grafted in catacomb circuitry
of soundless offices
These awful plums
these rotten shoes
an art at our disposal
and you never even knew.
