Destroy the Tabernacle! - This Town Needs Guns

In regard my intent

You get to re-invent

What I thought I’d meant

Mental landscapes are shaped by these

Shifting fictional territories

Synapse make maps from the sounds we’ve found

To draw a linguistic common ground

A cartography of typography

That refuses to stand steady

These towns of nouns

Where faces may change

But the place names remain the same

Addicted to our diction

Our vowels and consonants

In a constant flux

Creates a cognitive dissonance

Set sail for new consonance

In a vow of silence

You can’t see the world

Outside of these terms, these cursed words