There is boredom
in the bordello
filled with broken
fragrances
of waiting gun powder
and desolate embers –
I pick up the repeater
and send
straight through
my left ear –
words
pen
keyboards
Inside the
swanky svelte,
a monotone labyrinth,
false –
afternoons are placid,
linear and harmonic –
I can see the systematic
rapture of...