Monday 2 February 2009

Luddite Machine is a slow quickening
a blurred singleword is the universe
(am( i) a million pages in one novel) tonight.
scattered about from different angles
smart strange old sights
it's all the same
a twisting strand pattern
(as who i am: i see a gallery wall's white)

in 1887
when walking home hammer in hand
1987: hair is bigger "it's always the same"
broken plates street beats a dead wig's echo of second hand repitition
a premonition
now it's faces known like a pop up ad
but not tonight. touch faces with thoughts
put a wiggling fake brain in an old apple cart
a thousand wires from the future
a cyber mule pulls the cart
and the shriveled lady with the switch
hooked on laudnum delivering art
chews her gums her wings spread ...apart
(Jesus hates rhyme schemes)

ideas from a friend in tangiers i see on my screen
my best friend next door can share a glass of usb port
standing in front of who and look right through
lack the language taken by our own choice
blind and screaming responding to our own voice
it is an evil thing that brings everyone together
words on a screen
think & punch the google plex engine.
atlanta image: 1st hand 1st person last prison
our 10th wave of derision
dodges sharp tongues with self righteous division
decorate houses with naive decisions

this house of hen's reeks of the end
old geld sold her
balls for manless art
tie THIS scene together so scattered apart

write words jam cultured hate this list's givens

heresay heresy secondary market
space apple doesn't even fall from the cart
in the mirrorlessart market

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