Locked in rooms,
Eating their young:
Roar with laughter, little slackers,
Glow in the wake of billionaire backers.
So-called bright lights, little bit-blips,
Bioluminescent glitter, overwhelmed by “The Sun.”
Locked in cells,
Roar with echoes, nippy skivers,
Broom-room nappers, mapping deep lagoons.
Visit victories, drop-dead-locked in bland-past pastures,
Work for a living, do what’s asked …
Dissect your rotting corpse,
As tulips nip your dusty bones.
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