• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 03
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Seal Team

These are the hours where erosion takes the background

A withdrawal at 4am
and soap is a delicate question between your toes

Hours at the body
where steam drops its attic ladder
reveals the smuggled amphibian feeding on minutes

When you told me you’d do violence for me
I knew concern was a toy duck
barely holding its yellow

Between these teeth is the butter knife clenched with as much strength
           as the allegorical skin shows
when it turns its back on the acrylic of your knee

These are the hours where the protagonist peaks only half his face above the water
This post-60s action trope lets the viewer know the soldier has the right experience
to successfully raid the enemy encampment

This is the wash you consider stealth beneath the swamp
bankcard three lines into perfect symmetry and steep commando
in a conspiracy of frog spawn

Trust me when I say this is not the time to rinse the camouflage from your marrow
This soft architecture
was never designed to have underwater capabilities
or reflect any fucked notion of green


Seal Team

Believe me when I say
there will be no hero on the beach