Unintentional Counter-Contemplative Opaque Disunities

When I popped you up side the head with the harp of a piano
It wasn't intentional. The number of times I've said I'm sorry
Is equal to the combined incomes of medium tall people who 
Self-identify as impoverished, under-employed, willing to work
In alternative bluegrass ensembles for tips. Look at us, heading
Around a corner fretting about which vegetables will be killing
Us next. If I'm a fret and you're the fuselage of an air-ship I'm
Afraid we'll have little to do with one another. I hear someone
Say we're trying to establish a transparent community, I think, no,
More like a collection of lint collectors, barbs in our brains,
Viscosity extreme, and then it's time to be sucked down a drain.
I tend to like my emotional and intellectual extortions plain.
The cougar positioned by the kitchen sink should not collapse. 
I want the cougar to be equal to the combined velocity of the new 
Light that moves in circles, like when you let your eyes let my eyes 
Take in your eyes. Our next target won't be located, it cannot be.