Once upon a time, scorched earth

& thighs. The first word was “dough”

upon my lips. Some voip mixer plan

in highly performative social wear.

Something about how I ate everything

in the house, & then proceeded to eat the house.

Life is so much better when you

don’t have to work. It’s hard to say

why anyone ever invented it. Pure power

is super-annuated & dull. I will probably

speak more than my twin brother this weekend.

There is no page to like. I am intact

in this case of lies, & I don’t care.

Perhaps we trust our texts too much.

& so continuously toward the dark toilet

trembling in a sea of topless .jpegs, that

function in your night like bayonets,

those enemas & ecstasies!