the art of nonprocessing
stares blanking out imagery of obscene scenery
salesmanship of myriad pyramids
of pitch hook sale
the fish hook sails through words and sentences
and penetrates the final veil through the bullshit filter
and when its sharp end scrapes meat,
pull reel.
Who is that screaming?
magic is now crying and begging to be recognized
a pitiful plea
hope no longer exists on your tv

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