Inside the parking area
Outside the screeching roads
Lest, it will be pulled up
by the neck of longer crane,
baring your lame legs;
Upturning your gadgetry
In a nihilist end
Outside the tinsel town
Outside the the city area
Lest, red siren will honk
A horn on your head,
baring your flesh
With shoots, layering
The dark air
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