Makeshift means of existence

Pushed through these

Running wires

That litter the roadsides

That I built my memories upon

Crucifixes yards apart

In the ground like poison darts

Hold these lines above us all

Grid these towns and cities

In the

Fashion

Of

Burial plots

But once one falls, they’ll all fall

Once one falls, they’ll all fall

Once one falls, they’ll all fall

Once one falls, they’ll all fall

Once one falls, they’ll all fall down

I’m pulling the hair that progress made

To split its throat off the rough terrain

I’m pulling the hair that progress made

To split its throat off the rough terrain