PUT THEM IN THE ROOM OF SPIRIT AND TIME Boys who know roadside sun and know where to find fruiting lamp posts. Boys who were raised on the empty shell of a fridge sit with rocks in their stomachs and laugh. Boys who feel like Halloween costumes who wear winter coats in summer heat. Boys who do road, actually do road ten toes on a opp block road. Boys who don’t go to the corner shop on their ones because of boydem or boys like them. Boys who felt grief and its economies of scale in the budget of burial. Boys who look to polar bears for lessons on how to grow white fur on black skin. Boys who always swear they’re five minutes away who know that time is a promise of smoke. Boys who know that a wheel-up bar in a Grime rave is a loop of better days that may not come. Boys whose names sound like the rip of duck tape or the boom of a 12th bell. Boys who sleep in cupboards and in back seats of burning cars. Boys who can’t explain why they flinch at the knock of a door. Boys who live by the code and stay sealed by the liquid of wax. Boys who stopped waiting for a spirit in a holy place and stopped breaking for the morning. Boys in search of a hyperbolic time chamber whose days are tumbling sand in an hour glass. UPFRONT
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