if you don’t want to know the result look away
now
surrendered at the point all faith in the future died
look closely into that box of impoverished ambition
find my aspic flesh stretched, pinned and mounted.
the centrepiece of a dystopian diorama
and see amaurotic orbs rolled like unshelled eggs
with all pressures now a welcome zero where
nerves that have danced their final spastic coda
iterate no more their maddening din
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