The Enemy Incubates

They could be anywhere Greased on my bus fare. Any Tom Dick or Jack and Solitaire On every bit of bittie bit, on any drop of there. They're everywhere in ambush On every pull you push. Each panicked ceramic royal flush Pirates hide, ride crazy-eyed, with itch-sticky triggers to crush. And anything I breathe Down the red throat of my sleeve. The miasma mere clean teeth can't cleave Goes in out in out freaked out out, so every grin and weep's knot-weaved And my besiegement Unrelieved.