Purchased for pity, licked like you’re silly

Purchased for pittance,

Pity me knot,

Glades aren’t bayou’s

Dreams in real time

Been dead for some kinds

For you were,

Purchased you ass,

The things fucking done

Kleptomania isn’t the illness that counts

Nor any you’ve said to have sprung

Imperial constancy

and the truth to yourself

things that you cant carry

nor bandy about

clicking up your heels

like

Clay made of trout.

No storm coming

It just spit and left

Clashing your teeth

Underfamiliar

Overbereft

It’s the core that we all are trying to get you to see

You don’t have one, nor seemingly the need.