There's a movement down South
where sound comes creeping
from beneath our feet, emptying
pockets which never had much.
You can see what we've written-
our bathroom stalls read
'Do something for the hell of it... anything...'
The messages are clustered around depictions
of stick-figures having gay intercourse.
Money- the ways they lied to us
unintentionally, believing
just like we...
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