This broken arrow points to nowhere
Close ended, clusterfucked and emotionally plowshared
Glove compartments and paper clipped files
Conjugated heart can't even sigh.
Tapping catheter in rolling black out grids
Survey the blood, a labor of old
To what end do you pyramid?
Another entry in the phone book
With paperwork always a given
Every form filled out in triplicate squared
Intense pacing of attrition
Inside out
Of a digitally retouched identity
A choppy ending
With synch sound rekeyed
Foreshortened autonomy
I reciprocate beat.
