eliot and hiro look over at vic.
"it's such a strange language."
a cheap and broken bic,
floating in drunk sewage.

it's from Kabuki:
flipscans in the corporate docket
of a burned branded jet ski.
she fished a scrap out of her back pocket.

But she was lonely.
one didn't have to wear a face mask,
to fail suddenly,
but she had decided to never ask.

"they know about your financial worth."
she shook the liquor back and forth.