Fake Poem by Darlan M Cunha

In neutral what was accelerated, symphysis
I don't know what it is, we only know now
from cracks, cracks and stains
on the walls and the foundations, everything
seemed on the rails, pretending to be happy
all of them, but in neutral were,
the house is all cockroach bark and amputed ants
under the yoke of tiny being, dread in the shop windows
in the ancient night of artificial lights, yes, in reverse
the old structure of grinding meat and minds, opera of the dead.




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