spies are here!

...lurking around every corner.

spies in the field: give it over my son


sure we have children growing
in stalks of
corn,

chewing their navels and spitting
on their sweaters and
swearing at us;

there are train tracks to tide us over,
there are bullet cars and
timid trolleys.
secret lives dream of
escape
but
escape is for frauds.

frauds have children too,
but they are imbecilic and
juvenile,
ripping off cop cars and
singing about coffee shops.

the girls of these type have fawning brows,
the boys
irregular hands.

frauds would have it that this country is all about
stealing, but we’d
tell you otherwise:
the whole scheme of the place is
to play hide and seek.