the forced labor of life
and death giving birth to death
has been called the curse of Cain
at least someone long ago
had the good sense
to call it what it is
bloody murder
*

call it patterns
of light against
darkness
playing with the light
*

one person heard the sign
and said that’s what I said
like an echo changing voices
*

burned
it will end in fantastic fires
kissed by starlight
to begin with
*

the closest thing to a smile
is a snarl
the closest thing to a kiss…
etcetera
*

it is so clear that something
about this place is fundamentally
wrong
all the conditions
the desperation
the appetites
watching over themselves
forgetting
the foot prints
leading to the edge of the cliff
*

we are about to take things into
our own hands
but don’t know if it’s even possible
if we can’t evolve we will have no
choice but to merge with our machines
to attain supra-human intelligence
transhumanism is not all that laughable
all the arts precede events by imagining
them in advance
or else they might follow the events as
dreams and memories
which seems equally plausible
*

I use snake oils
that seep beneath the rust
of corruption
*

Creation is a serial murderer
no… it is an insane suicide
that kills itself continuously
without hesitation
*

a snake that eats its own tail
and has a tail that grows back
is a happy serpent
*

tabula rasa: the primordial yearning for our origins
it is an inverted nostalgia for a promise yet to be
made
*

the question riding the 8 ball enveloped in flames
acting sexy short skirt hiked up to her crotch
unquenchable lips primary red
and high heels red too
to match the message to buy tires
from an establishment boasting over a hundred years
of reliable rubber
*

the poetry of science lights up his mind
and his face glows as he explains
the elegance and symmetry of the limits
of our knowledge
*

in the end I don’t mind being last
*