Living in the monster times,
we learned to creep with hostile vanity,
leaving the building block bones of industry
and lying to the suits on the thirty-first floor,
to aid our beauty sleep.
Yet in the darkness,
we slip in and out of bedrooms,
laterns awakened,
we voodoo our sins out the body,
into the river and cleanse away
what we’ve seen.
Lately I’ve nowhere to hide,
nightmares during the waking hours,
I stay haunted even in the unexpected
corners of the dollhouse.
Where in wonderland are we now?
In the deep sleepwalking cracks in the earth,
we sink down to see the fires of the Symbolic Order,
burning bright.
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