Complete detachment A punching bag's constant attempts To overthrow its masters She will fall in between the cracks As did all the other stations Man's big triumph Over bread crumbs Too much maintenance Must keep mouth open There are no magical short cuts Other than persistency But I am drowning in fuel Completely saturated Can no longer tell Between resource and outcome Surrendered to carbonate I swim with parasites Unable to follow all the instructions For better up keeping Of future compost Too many regrets Must shed this Woolgathering barren skin Blood ties aside It always feels like hugging plastic.
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