Public Transit

My body is a temple I use it to perform through forests Like a frightened deer An ongoing painting in the middle of nowhere My own time and space Earth is just a ball A laboratory run by men And why would I trust men I wish No you’re not Curve squeal Won’t let hear yourself think Just breathe Dogs are fun, think about it Snow duck makers in the snow The unconscious mimicry of mass crazes Dying plants in patched up apartments I breathe in And trust nature And its hot flashes it gives me Do engineers care about our well being? Take on the globe Where does that decree come from? Minutes feel like hours in public transportation And all those fleeing eyes Why does everyone reject their death fetish? Is mother nature made like this? Oh man I swear I saw a woman leaning on my bedside table She had no face, was dressed only in sterile white Oh man I swear I’m gonna die in wagon number sixty-nine My car is a temple A low mobile exhibition A safe space of expression Everyone is capable of anything No one else is frightened only me Earth is just a grain of sand A laboratory run by men So why would I trust them