A sinister bonnet

Twist those dials cause the world is meat for the kindling fire. An expensive march. Parched masses rasps are replaced by laughter. They are collecting our debts, with removed organs the office floor is wet. We all knew it would happen and yet, we scrolled our phones till butcher kicked in our doors.

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You've got to get this solar powered hat, it's where it's at, or at least in the general area anyway. I did it deep in a summer dream. Maybe it don't mean anything. We didn't mean to burn the sunrise, now we gotta face that look in your eyes. Meet us outside the mind.

• Let the fiddle provide your own below. Maybe some future generation will honor my soul. But for now they hold me down and shellac my soul. They cut me open to access my back brain. They filter my mind. My decades ago severed foreskin awaits me on a sandy beach. I just threw away many things that I used to believe.