[the wish for fame is to not become/ that which surrounds you at home]
something only one poet can
say to another: "my poetry
seems prosaic in comparison."
the internet means our cages
are smaller—capitalism is
more vicious now than ever.
we didn’t always have the whole world
to compete against.
the romans loved statistics,
and we have baseball. and then
your father gets rid of a
book of his your actually
liked, b/c, it turns out,
as much of a beggar he
is, he’s more zen than you.
but you have to wonder
sometimes if being zen is
a form of brain damage.
"…but you have to make your
way, map your way, ‘out’ of
the prolifera slideshow somehow…"
the false forest we’ve made
of graven images and lies
and lust and epiphanies
side-by-side, crop next to crop,
contaminant next to contaminant
you didn’t need that lat/long tool.
catching a spy isn’t that much
of an accomplishment. there
are so many, anyone can do it.
being a spy without being
explodes, and never in
you have a system but
your system can always be taken
for a scam.
God is not a CAPTCHA but
a CAPTCHA is more responsive
more of a guardian
if you’re doing to have a gate, at least
it should be decorated nicely. every
suburban house a Garden of Eden,
rehearsing its own individualized
Fall. But scenic on the strip, to
make apartment dwellers feel bad.
keys are for when systems get too complex,
but we expect them now, at the ribbon-
cutting, at the sign-off
ceremony, they become something
else, from a tool to a symbol
–but not every tool is a
–outside of advertising, a knife
is a knife is a knife.
which just proves the royal road to
the subconscious is full
and you should stop pumping the well
while you’re ahead.
though the well has not been primed
to offer data on a correlation re
over-use of the loop. it’s
really just tradition, backed
by humiliating history.