Souls in jars
sowing on the counter
and we wake up at noon
eating the cereal boxes
tossing on the televidual
letting him speak his wicked
artificial rape flavored face
and we wake up sweating
sewing our eyes open
running around in sermons
with palms begging
forgiveness if not forgetfulness
and we wake up alive
whispering show tunes
eating dirt again
cackling back
when cackled at
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