white goods

there does appear to be some hope in me today.
even with lizard woman pushing me to the edge over some paperclips.
stuffing dry sugar and butter each minute.
"it doesnt matter".
black square.
deep papercut, an office wound.
could i rip her larynx out?

there does appear to be some sunshine in this midst
whilst the grandmothers float around, taking gossip calls.
and the mothers of the land become moths.