Have you crunched baked angel’s arms?
At war in the kitchen, school or street.
Or perhaps you like the slithery, slippery things.
Licking lips and drooling. The greasier the better.
When someone passes
do you scratch,
do you cough?
Imagine never having to scratch again
or clear your throat.
Have you seen the fibers of identification?
A code set up by who?
By me?
By you?
By them?
Pass through this zone and do not linger long.
The pleasures are fleeting and the war never ending.