Triumph of the Cold World

I think it’s raining

But tears are too thin

I can’t see in

There’s evil in the residential area

Can’t tell if I’m waiting for something

Can’t handle anything

Time does its job

33/3

Ends up looping

Images compose

It’s not hyperreal

Van Morrison’s a quiche

Gazing at the window

All there is to see

Is a window

And it’s 93

I don’t want to go out

Tomorrow there’s Internet