not words for titled

“nullify thyself…”
manta ray flails past window
triggers repressed memories with its cast-iron shadow
enterprised neurones leaping with newfound cane sugar
fuelling the same, same reactor
makeshift, all around you
start dancing, manic to the same rhythm
their rubber masks absorbing shocks from radio towers
their skin tanned by broadcast signals, and
their mouths spewing 2-second clips as though
rotting minds is done to do
and all that is needed is their field of flowers
strewn with chunks of raw turtle meat and used lighters.
“…there is nothing(,) right or wrong(,) here.”

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