Out to the Store

You go shopping.
I say, I don't know why.
What's here you don't need,
And what's there you do?
I can't see you off at the store.
Now can I? I can see buzzards.
Plenty of chrome fishes fried
But bitten into by broken teeth.
Isn't it sloppy of them?
Do you want to be one?
That makes you silly in a way
Known only by crass inter-dimensional
Antelope feasting bottom feeders
Of today's social news crew;
Don't you see? You play in their hands;
I think they deserve a good prick.
Can't I be more like cats and you more like balloons?
I can already see these forms of our selves
Spinning in the forth coming monsoon. It's coming soon.
It's near; and its tears are large as the lawn
You have forgotten to cut. And its winds hold
A passion I never knew manifested in the sky.
Don't be mistaken. This
I do not regret.