Untitled (golden ticket)
Held I time's reins I'd never speak to anyone.
Simply memorize the world
in lecherous despair. Amongst prudes,
the lonesome voyer may once be king. Televised
trials of war criminals and torture murderers,
'longside every sex act imaginable,
the populace lives second to Nero now -
the squares lost. Provided you dressed
for the vanilla winds, stomach all the
ice cream you like. I'm plump with
earrings in, seeing the missing posters
flock to the phone poles. You long
to transcend the material plane,
traverse Yesod, rook time and death?
Be lonesome in metropolis.
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