The glue of the community cuts the circulation Clumsy fingers clutching detonators A mediocre massacre rattles the floorboards A prophet's promise rapturing the ribcage Ashes to the heartburn of the second class Murder to their mechanical hips Fire to their rigid lawns and paper trails Panic to the sprawling metropolis It's the boredom that beats you And the sound of it echoes One after the other collapsing These face-brick constellations patronise me The smear of monotony A backwards revelation A small-time swindle, two bit operation A testament of temperament A tribute to complaisance A needle swiftly puncturing the breastplate