hung in the shadows on the western wall emerald cone boasting corona of dipped lunatic cotton fails serially with each attempt (once every three minutes) to intellect through short dire sentences despite being broken into labium labrum maxillae and mandible the discourse remains functional powered up and spread warm butter like the sun like the museum’s most popular gallery quantitatively as the reader fails to consider commerce here the radical mage conjures a million jerry saltzs dehydrate mutants no geiger counter for this kind of subjective observation through a starbucks window clearly the majority look onward and upward while elements class traitors sift form from function and some nonzero number of postdocs see a leg and writhe in pain and some nonzero number of highly marketable postdocs see a shark skin wallet and movement becomes impossible consider minus zero as a vector of possibility
a long time ago lived a lengthy brass ladder known for lying who unscrewed an exit sign named piero manzoni the ladder was high as fuck and craved a little zappo critical discourse emerged simultaneously from the academic journals commonly read by building inspectors widely known to be bad men damp men with all sorts of wicked contradictions hammers hardhats marshmallows cargo shorts and bibles held to account hauled up by their judith butler-lookin lobes tonight is the night it is impossible to judge these men at this hour but long ago judges went unmoored a mythological tap of little sausages enticing a blue arc back then everything was faked everything was cheated an ounce or two everything surreptitiously observed and tweaked their values modified until reality felt just about right
without transubstantiation of the aphid this reality slithers from open space to open source its brand much improved especially popular among college educated white liberals aged 18-24 who earn each rostrum feeds then snaps predictably with a super majority obeying basic digital commands retweet unfollow promote accept all the role of the curator has changed for the wurst since wuhan
impish discursive corona dip thineself ankle deep into serious intellect unbreak your reader fall from function into a nonzero bouquet of legs move only when movement becomes impossible
my love uploaded virus unlocked door can of the artist’s shit save my planet one salsiccia at a time
prokofievcobham & darnielle circle one’s crown blue llama equilateral winged what have we here seen? a photo in a photo in a magazine metaphor boils the pot after a jot spills its ink hung over an fim-92 stinger which like i said before is no metaphor at all al gore despondent speaking to late modal fords don’t forget mass production the cruelest beard a habitat in the atlantic city convention hall and curly beautiful ambulances free myself today and forever from human immobility masked up in constant whirls a plagiarizer a bad speller pfizer hopping on one leg from star to star i swing red radio to blue gamma alongside a humming horse’s mouth a plagiarizer paul reiser needle in the armed to the teeth breasts elbows draped over that still missile botticelli like a real goddess of love cuts my tongue into 8 poppy flowers and marches south to war for the winter who do you think you are tarantula swagger carpet bagger meowing hoarse chuff chuff chuffing at popular art cart me ashore saint bart of the ozarks
with no ill intention to the artist what the fuck were you thinking the mangy dog and the electro- magnetic implant fine! but replacing the u with the v? what a braggadocious pile of staten island’s finest piled up to intellectual affidavits — i once asked allen ginsberg should i be scared when the polish barrister holds a luger to my temple and demands fried bananas he said you’ll never move to krakow don’t fret my pet i pianeti della fortuna no ill intention to moloch or the electromagnetic swing the dog abundant and widespread in hungry this abandoned city in the days since the airing of ruth bader ginsburg coordinated inauthentic leaderless lurking evil the writer goes down the one true rabbit hole a meeting of senior government officials four cholinergic cherubs armed with radio poles lit upon the roof of the confident wannsee manor unclear if these birds are gripped fast to the edge of indivisible azalea branches or synaptic clefts between bit and byte cast totally aside countervailing rights — unclear unclear
So much light, dear oblivion, night after night; I offered up my body. You refused. I drank. Begged, really. Said my dreams, you don’t belong here. Some countable mornings ahead, crouched in the internet’s dark corners, hands reaching into prosaic brightness, not to gather, but offer: News spreads of a virgin conception. And so much light.