superseded (mer)

LOOK upon these words, DESPAIR:
True friendship’s being fed stale
Things in buttfuck nowhere –
It is said the average Lemurian
Must rock six boats, handle tides
And overcoats by flicking middle
Stingers back into the waters,
Appease the crowds that stir
From daughters of an ancien
Régime. Part of it is made-up,
The other half an inconsistency –
From your heavens to midgard
We still say ‘sorry disregard’ when
Ever fingers click, crash against
The bones we wish no longer
Gave us structure. If all were trees
There’d be no wars because we’d
All be trees – no-one left could dis
Agree to taking to the axe, sipping
From this holy sap, sailing from
A fading map with nothing but an
Orb, a mist misunderstanding.
Drowning fears and cruising piers
For something of a magic ride,
Blue and black and taking part
In instinct by extinction, honest
Misdirection, the last of living
Prophets to discourage all our
Turwheel prophecies.


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