The Keen Teen Skip - cLOUDDEAD

«Wine and cake for gentlemen, hay and corn for horses

A cup of ale for good old wives, and kisses for the lasses»

I’m sick of keen eyed

Teens keying car doors

In the middle of the night

They won’t believe their

Donning dangling

Carrot cams

Youngsters today

Are not prepared

To buy plants

Or collect stamps

They won’t believe they’re

Wearing

Lead-lined pants

Pants

Pants

Pants

Keeping them inert

Like just a carrot

Can’t

Can’t

Can’t

Can’t

Aging in the space

Between two magnets

Face to face

Your house keys are cut from utter nonsense

From the ground to utter nonsense up

When the people factory shuts down

There is no mad fandangle

On the opposite ends of telescopes

In spotlights, in sub-particles of rocks

The petty douse of your death

Spread over light years awaiting

The impact of laughter

Diffuse through space

There is no search party for a star gone dim

There is no search party for a star gone dim

Are you prepared to give a guided tour of your planet

To something like God, to speak on behalf

Of all phylum, from single-celled to sapiens?

Are all your cells in agreement?

«The empty space between distant airs doesn’t care»