Try this new screening slip
to see if anyone lives here now.
In all these little walks around
what do you sense about last laughs

for faces in hands, let’s meet
until we don’t know who we are.
Who’s the stranger at the table
telling us how to sleep on through

and wander down to a random vista.
We can always afford here and there
chop chop, throne and visitation
more than the cost of a concept.

Note the famous chickens on wheels
have got the goods that others came for.
Still it’s good to not be lost
in the lined up echo, eye for gorgeous

occasional thrills at the station
and dreaming how to catch the air
when phone calls try to poll us;
I’d like to take that to go in the morning.