The Earthworm’s Lament: An Ode to Flipper

Sludge they dub it, a slothy

shit-sea oozing past

benumbed witnesses, CCTV

eyes with hours of unwatched

footage. But it’s cyberstalker

malaria writ large, nodded out

nothingness surprised at its

plenitude, phantom genitals

hovering over arcane mechanics’

manuals, tattered colons tattooed

with scripts for radio-plays meant

to entertain war-tired civilians

except no one understands

the tongue.

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