The Queen of pretty boys and I decide

������ Productivity is nonexistent �

Life is a cycle of

���� Salty rice crackers and water.

�And we sit in a green and purple airport

������������� At midnight

������� South of the Mason Dixon Line�

���� (The less we seek our souls for some definitive,

��� the closer we are to find),

���� After we have discovered that philosophers

�������������������� are full of shit.

������ We wait for something more solid

��� Than styrophoam coffee,

���� More substantial than love

���������� And prickly our plane air.

����������� That we must now return to.