Unliking the New Millenium [with audio!]

Brillo eyes, I feel you looking, you crawl me, you cruise me, there are 
sandstorms forming in the wasteland 
shaped like big cuddly plush toys 
and I hear them with my ear to your shell, groaning 
like teenagers at a PTA meeting. 
Glances measure the walls the floor the security camera coverage, 
casing the joint as it passes lips to lip, mute twinkles 
of significance to come 
in the dark 
by the fire 
far from hell, 
I see nothing. 
Armored vehicles lengthen the lash line to infinity, 
grabbing gradients and blending deftly into metaphysics, 
that horrid hole where something chewed through a foot of concrete to escape 
is something of an eyepatch for that house face
don'tcha think? 
Shot dead at Lenscrafters, see it all 
and empty out 
that a blurry ski-mask could fail to take it all in, like 
someone is watching me, like 
pink eye in the eyes 
in the back of your head. 
Grafting organs of vision to flights of fancy 
just as they get crushed 
by the relentless onrush of motives, 
where motives is a thin word, 
like dust in your eyes, 
unlike the sound of fucking. 
I cannot be seen like this, I haven't 
got my head on, there is face all over the place, 
I give great fake video date my phone chirps helpfully 
but outside the eyes the bombs are fallings fast, 
pigeons panic and front row seats 
at the end of the world await.

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