At the Drive-In

300 MHz

in the unlikely event

that sarcasm is an unfitting dress

amnesia proletariat

coughing up the coffins

cotton candy coated teeth

the reflection of your enamel

made no reflection in our mirror

malfunction

these pockets were clinching

all filled with fists

these decibels were rotted

in the canals of my teeth

amnesia proletariat

sharpened on the fucking hides of men

in the full of this moon we will make amends

malfunction

whispered in the ear

300MHz