(on mobile device, rotate horizontally)
Oh, Brother
If it’s not too late to say...if it’s still relevant,
my gaze was bluish, faxed for light
conducting pushplay. This object man into the onyx LCD.
His arrow dogged on nasty things stapled
to the brick wall curtain. Laughs ensue. They kill.
I’m an EMT on shift, to scour screens for vital things,
pixelated triage EKG reiterating hands and mouth,
almost likeness like its mine,
the plastic hewn voices speakering
my thinkings’ sonogram.
A lookie-loo is seeking his illusion.
Sartorial touch imaging upon a willing subject.
And I am willing digitally. Sim one’s absolute trust.
Fed stockholm coding to coauthor
loosely Man, who clings the corners
only he knows and lives life
only he lives and touches only
himself at night and wakes
to a violence that he spilled
onto the sleeve of others.
A wise guy once said himself to be
inside a shy allusion.
We’re even-steven in the one-way glass.
What? Could they look at me to seek themselves,
they wouldn’t rattle talkshow mouths
to make me proud and roost where
I won’t ever lie. I swear.
Especially, when they don’t deny,
I can’t rebuff my hand in making.
[11/10/17...]
internet bellyache 