My fatigue is San Andreas shuddering slow.
Shuddering slow.
I mark my lintel with bloodstains
and dream of suburbs up in flames.
Every evening when I arrive back at home
and finally lock my front door,
Carthago Est Delenda,
and the pavements are beaches once more.
Shuddering slow.
I mark my lintel with bloodstains
and dream of suburbs up in flames.
Every evening when I arrive back at home
and finally lock my front door,
Carthago Est Delenda,
and the pavements are beaches once more.
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