Everywhere is sin and in everything:
city's acclimation never tires,
in which the goods of each are weaned, sired,
bought up, dealt to, fecklessly stretched, tight-stringed:
coercion of comfort's namelessness ringed
with slicked voices; debt-racked, grin-backed briar.
Only one step and you're necked in quagmire;
one techni-gain the gainsayers bring,
another is soon to come, given grease.
Everyone assumes virtue's lithe look-a-like
(yet one will-death and new become your limbs)
that preemptively locks on truth a lease,
as one would strike an object pig on pike,
or as one holds thanksgivings back, and hymns.
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