There's a fire
on Junk Island where
they send their garbage
is anybody listening?
After work we'll watch
the seagulls diving in
and out of the lashing towers of flame.
It twinkles like a pile
of rotting jewels left
to bake in the sun.
Is anybody listening?
We're just like those condom wrappers: used up torn up
thrown away.
And we're just like yesterday's headlines:
drifting, floating, towards the blaze.
If we rob the
liquor store we could

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

kill yo self!!!!!!!!!!!!!!