Barricades

1 February 2013

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!

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