pigs over the parapet

Unwired conduits spit and spark they
jitter and jive through his veins
he was betrayed by a fat security guard,
while wet nursed by an alcoholic stranger

in his pocket, a polished stone.

At school he was average
ultimately, people would say,
he was fucked

vocationally he hide behind countless inventions
and cans of
non-perishable goods

bunker food for a nuclear age.

He lurks below the parapet of acceptable society,
throwing pig heads at passers by.

It goes to pass the time
as he ejaculates prematurely on crayon drawn eyes.

Eventually his “girlfriend” left him
due to his failed attempts at magic
but he appeared in chat rooms, virtually, virally
discussing timber wolves, flowers of North Carolina and black exploitations movies of the late 70’s.

He lives under the radar, now.

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