they’re selling protection for the one that’s in this skin crawling under the weather withering with the ozone leather or is it better a meta-for pleather this thinning layer we are wearing through earth air water fire willed like a debt to the sun or daughter i just couldn’t in good conscience bear with me it’s hard to tell the future/s well we’ve all heard the lore envisioned before the wanting stares lit up by the glare of infrared magazines and telescreens numbing the census succumbing immense us once too wise to sound bite-sized the right size to fit inside the box blares from every living room not to grow but overshadow whispering sighs and silencing beats rhythm that flows beneath our feet on softwood floors constructed as yours from under which they’re stealing our senses revealing the fences erected undetected within this radiant fluorescence they’re selling perfection/s/in/essence.