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32 ppm

                 Eleven thousand
        eyes are winking
              you can see their faces
                                but their insides
                   are made
                of words

                                      all around

             It’s a sudden realization
  everything was wrong
              there was nothing
                                       you could do but
                           breathe the saggy weight
the synthesis

                             The hail hits
             hard you could
feel it dead on
                     that taproot digging
                      it’s cheeksquint
                  at the lime green node
                          down a rhythm
          at the surface
        of the crusty frozen maze

It was eerie
                       how well it worked

                       how well it didn’t
work on me

We were popping words
from our pimples

We could see them
in our hair

We slashed our plastic wrists
with rusty blades
ripped them right
out of our veins

We reached up
    and grabbed fistfulls
            of these stupid symbols
      with wide glistening grins
             with dopamine drool
       and with disbelief
                        this static
         that wants me to believe
 is naval
                                              is not