Slipping through the rush
I see nothing all at once.
Pausing only when the bodies
stop to pass the trucks.
Workers nonchalantly warn that
the street could blow up.
Apostatizing slowly
in the noise.
Wait, go.
That bus passed within
one inch of my nose.
Somebody's broke
and fourteen thousand feet per hour
slap the ground for the encore.
Rushing towards the light
I'm a bullet in a scarf.
Clapping till my hands are sore.
Epitaph Records will be matching all pre-orders of “Always Foreign” with a donation to The Immigrant Defense Project. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 28, 2017