Wandering around the remnant bin of tainted things
Tattered rags and phantom limbs waving to passers by
Hovering over head like angels in a carnival game for trinkets of
A quarter for a chance as the electric crane’s
Horizontal and vertical knobs are turned in inexact rotations
To thrust and grab with dull instruments, numb to the touch
And slipping this felt skin, foamy and thick burdened like brick
Down in the tank of all the appendages that can not find the crank
Rocket ride out of here too heavy, or too old
Monster horns and priced out roles for free out on the street
Could not give away this beaten up meat
With the expiration sign, salvage marked for quick-sale
Years ago and vinegar in the ale
Where is the line that was once crossed?
Chalk has disappeared with footsteps passing lost
Not intending to be in such proximity
Happen stance and a misaligned memory
Knowing the ears, the face staring up into lights
Is one no one was made to hunger for or dream renewed,
A soul disguised, excrement exude, waste a life in a remnant bin
Tainted thing endlessly hoping for another end
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