cotton song

   the burnt sight tiring the white dot has no
dimension or will to leave the radio plays revisionist elton looks like denzel
someones dubious zoology or unhappiness in the form of
soft fruit quietly wows the critical mother scared for christophers
    life theres no need to remain anonymous yet
the sound destroys any sense of time christopher writes pitying letters
to them something breaks like fever a safari of symptoms rubbing
powder into gums fascinated with each abject tableau or tragic
j lo miming the bar staff dry fuck dreaming of a warhol cache
 the room contains notes to its downfall we wont
  watch that movie or vote next time his tardiness disgusts the mosque goers
& detention camps alternate with a flicker of his grave