we are living inside something else

the city has a roar at the edge
a low engine palpitation
synthetic cardiac rhythm
faster than the ear bone’s repose

and at night
the larger beastly shapes
prowl with whishes in the orange glow
looking for nothing in particular
nematocysts in the larger organism
groping and ferrying souls about

somewhere in it all
the air finds space for the animal noises
the hoots of the pigeons
and the yips of stray canines
occasionally, in the black of it, human voices chirp and crow
calling out their wagers or begging on behalf of their loins

 

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