Lacking a Title

I wilt In the cool malaise of suburbia Mundane rituals of tv And confectionaries Milk runs We put the country cows to work And the wolves in the city Scout the new arrivals Spot the weak Consumed, regurgitate Feed the chicks in the nest With gum wrappers and cigarette butts There is no purity left As we thrash in the bloodlines Can we break from the hereditary rules? Un-know thyself Invent a new cream filling For your doughnut skin The addiction Of a fast food existence There must be a silence…in death Inert in the dirt Soft echoes then an absolute absence The comfort in dying is forever Unknown Black glass mirror Hold back your truth Darkening eyes Whitening hairs Yellowing skin A lone carrot in a crate Under shaped In need of skinning Reflector Send me a lie Send me a tale Send me a moment Where Lucien will see more Capture me in oil On wood panel Under gloss, say, for the loss of pigment Translucent shadow Reveal your identity Lest I remain in a lonesome cavity shrunken and curled A dollar bill thrown out to the world