I might happily have lived in another state
Standing in neoplatonic darkness. A white bike
To follow any path out /

/ still I have a green thumb trying to cover
Dabs of marine titanium that oscillate
Blurring my root views for up to an hour —

Inky smoke releasing a genocidal collage of screens, like
Thinking in waves easily agitated, reproached, disappeared
In drumming opinions and worst practices —

So that services requested go off the board.
A white bike, please.