The song turns,
rotating behind glass
a frequency ellipse,
micro-waved to the ear.
The song sings itself,
a puffed up narcissist
and presses hoping
against your disdain.
The song is a college try,
something to be eaten
quickly
a glazed fancy,
its desperation made
tactile.
The song is a collective,
generational howling
and you'll sing it
whether you want to or
not.
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