Intimacy, the found
Object cast on a dark
Republic, a green spread
Of real estate, cute animal
Discipline of formatted
Antiseptic rage, on such
Ruptured climes, we
Feel a rent calling us.
Such awesome technology
I have as my cynicism, the boast
The kayfabe, the amazing detail
Around a benign wheat stain.
The performance was of wrathful
Cinnamon thru a bright
Feeding tube. The President
Fogged what we saw as burning
As rent, as clever equivocation.
Sing the hooded Jack-up
Transmission, as the pain that
Is ordinary, a leak, cements, cements
An economy. Found intimacy
Rates much fumbled
Tender and ordinary gestures
Cast into performance
New England facelifts
We thought would help,
As such strange and abusive
Vocabulary enters our limits
Salt Bae opens up about
Bitcoin mining. Enjoying a
Beer with a funny reason why
And today is lot of sun
But tomorrow is never more than
A palimpsest on the future, super
Impositions forming a country, and
A string over the rousted people
Of our habitat. Colonized places
Hold memory til whatever comes
Home to roost can be packaged.
Slow motion nuke
Of trad bird brain
Makes a new sun
In a closed mind
Polar or voluble
On their tongues
Into nasty boys
Blind date kremes
Illusory cubes of
Hate body action
Closing up on
Long pale memories
Not in that syndrome’s room-space
thought-scape stalely swiping, wiping
a mouth of air, a separate dazzle of dimension–
the toggle must be satiated to sovereignty–
make view bigger until balance is plump tight nightie
the underwear stretched to view–
it is such
that it reduces my testosterone!
I am more than Alaska, a cultivate of aerosols
and awesome-sauce. I must make my dream a room
with a view, elaborating a goose that much more than I
can explain here, to you, in a bounce-house. Is this bad?
To wanna, and expand a hallway in your head-space
a squirrel in a binding loggerhead
it is what it degrades you can tell by
what I offer to bring, as a dish.
I like to toggle, and you can tell
an adjacent room holds the master’s minutes
it is what offers no view to nothing to view–
Genetic superior spud growths of Silicon Valley
Must be allowed to thrive on immaterial
Polyester mattress pads of idle and ridiculous thought.
Calvinist egotism must supplant
Gerontocratic orbitrons in salved hardware.
Who let the dogs out? Theistic carbon bars.
Each human a mixed bag of telegraphed automatism and
And profuse gravity making molecules
Move thru abstractions of suffering and bliss.
Predicting the behavior of the sun, staunch billionaires
Fly perfect parallelograms thru mushroom
Structures bright with tandem quality. They believe
Their children will throng wetly at the timely
Abyss that is programmed by the Thinking Man’s Philosopher.
They feed innards to their offspring when it is
Time to regale their puntings by sound of
Mooching artificial spray off planets of harried
Experiencing your cash dimension of scrolling stock
Capital image-generation morning star veggie burger with
The best minds of your generation.