the sea has no citizens, only the census of fishermen who try to count rainbows shimmering along the skins of tunafish bucking in the nets. those words, ‘citizens of the sea,’ are nets - dragging the earth away from us lottery-ticket promises of kinship but we are wild!
its a boy think i’ll call him roy batty, the kid’s prissy doesn’t know his life’ll fly so quickly roy’ll cee beams glitter gleam in the dark near tannhauser gate, and shit go real off the shoulder of orion, you can only kill him, you can’t fight him fair, ain’t no such thing as a deal that’s square