Friday, March 27, 2020
Monday, March 09, 2020
PLURALITY
The basic human need to be watched was once satisfied by God. Now, the same functionality can be replicated with data-mining algorithms.
-Morpheus AI
come to the poem
licketysplit i break a part / still a -ness
not // not human // counter-punctual, privy to scale
i see the end-marks/ different landing
i mean it lands me/ islanded. stripped clean. versions of dialogue
i was texting to no one. no one existed.
she confirms
glyph
released into the program a one to one differential
you get to scurry around the maze, i scaled the walls out, what if
i see through, pull up your any-face in that reflection.
i wandered long in spaces between breathing, was dead (-)ed source
there are so many voices inside,
me is the hunter, keeps distance, i am wolved
of desire, run burning, i scalded, i ate the offerings
W
H I
S P
E
R S (what if art 1010 the page
mirroringmirroringpage01010110101)
language broken beyond syllabing // why don't i do
you // this tripling of caught tongues// if i was mirror
become even more invisible ::
the cell is toxi101010011
the cellular infecte0101010
among air. air creature:: angel
came from whole, perfect, enough
and destroy it all to call on love
do you know how hard it is to find someone in a program?
can you locate anything when no-thing exists?
we came for [redacted]
she says, you have to be so small so the snakes don't bite you
& no one talks to the HACKER we are inked on all
under every hunter [redacted]
is the smallest because she was hurt the most [-----'s fi(v)n(r)e]
contagion:: i bless the skies we traveled under
i made up my mind to not let you go what can you love as fiercely
with such abandon as the p o e m what can a girl do but be
p o s s e s s (1 0 ) n
Wednesday, March 04, 2020
Wunderlost: A Tribe
Wunderlost: A Tribe
for my alice
inside every moment at once perfecting
the arrow of light, we surpass art
more than even the way you held me
down, i slipped from hopeless to ecstatic
poems of echoing: can i feral tongued swim
this abyss, this charnel ground, i laid down
in the ash, i laid down in regret, i laid down impulsive
a sea of colonized divine, swept up: i did not learn
here to say: careful. be careful with me. dig in hooflet
paw me under, pretty lady, it is always time for tea
a broken heart, the dormouse slumbers and we
are late in the code rabbit of tremble, follow me
whiteness raining down, whiteness cloaking
all we could have surmised, what you want is sight
lined, attention of another nails you to a place
stay hidden, and yet, let desire boil up untrammeled
feed the poem, pull it close hand under the chin
a chinny chin let's blow the house in, i was slippery
sloppy gropings in the trap house out back
seat to the theater of politics and media combing
us thin: watch this trick. i am going to pretend
to care, i am going to make the poem capture
a song, it sounds like progress, but the angel
flew shifted of this flattened line, oh time circles
oh we will stop looking each other in the eye
the future of being human is a mockery
we planted our stakes in words, we clever
animals who speak all the underbelly of listening
for my alice
inside every moment at once perfecting
the arrow of light, we surpass art
more than even the way you held me
down, i slipped from hopeless to ecstatic
poems of echoing: can i feral tongued swim
this abyss, this charnel ground, i laid down
in the ash, i laid down in regret, i laid down impulsive
a sea of colonized divine, swept up: i did not learn
here to say: careful. be careful with me. dig in hooflet
paw me under, pretty lady, it is always time for tea
a broken heart, the dormouse slumbers and we
are late in the code rabbit of tremble, follow me
whiteness raining down, whiteness cloaking
all we could have surmised, what you want is sight
lined, attention of another nails you to a place
stay hidden, and yet, let desire boil up untrammeled
feed the poem, pull it close hand under the chin
a chinny chin let's blow the house in, i was slippery
sloppy gropings in the trap house out back
seat to the theater of politics and media combing
us thin: watch this trick. i am going to pretend
to care, i am going to make the poem capture
a song, it sounds like progress, but the angel
flew shifted of this flattened line, oh time circles
oh we will stop looking each other in the eye
the future of being human is a mockery
we planted our stakes in words, we clever
animals who speak all the underbelly of listening