Window 2 Window

A draft does sew
Oneself straight thru
Window to blade
To passageway
Window
Window to window
I want to find something good in the air
I want to find something good in the air
(I place my hope in suburbia)
Just once in the grass on my lunch break
I materialised right in the center
I let myself hear the meathooks, the MacBooks, every street crossing
Every sidewalk slash, even Jesus Christ on a podcast
(I place my hope in suburbia)
I’ve always aimed to live in an air conditioned car
In the cookie cutter district of a desolate utopia
It can be such warfare to unclench this ego
And evaporate, evaporate, evaporate as keenly as I came
(I've embraced my inner suburbia)
A small seed’s needs are always met
Why do I ask questions before thinking?
I’m creating complications!