French glassine museum freedom.
Pocket-watch back by sixty-six minutes,
We all thought this would stop but it isn’t.
Look into the image of panes of your strain,
Benzo fever for an amnesiac memorial cain.
Sewer cells and whistle bells and things are hell but they always, well?
Bring yourself to be deloused by the moments that brought you histamines,
Cover yourself in your warmest covers and watch the fire’s flickering’s.
Base camp Katmandu,
Afraid I can’t; I’ve already paid my dues.
May I be excused?