Mixtures of Mud

We pay our taxes,
We praise our God,
And benefit the slaves
Who is cerebral cortex
Had betrayed
Synthetic synapses.

Celery implants;
Vegetative destructive monstrosity.

I have regained in you
A piece of forward motion,
And how it borrows
A destructive impulse;
Seminary inquiry
The breath of death,
And an undulation
Whose core is my catharsis.

Hand in hand,
Rejoin the band,
To bray
Towards our deceit.

Shelter the fucking fleet.

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