“Institute for cyberstalking decrees
Virtualization for the separation of
Under six degrees.”
Assembled, bled white cheeks. Glass eyes.
Zero gravity morality.
Hurting in any way.
Her body riddled with miracles,
Surgical wishes and chemical desires.
How can a person be damaged
As you and still be frigid?
I live in a world of pieces
And only half the time passes.
The other, not yet come to pass.
The world made of parts, breaking
Into a million little ball bearings
But we have left to get some beer.
Each beer we drunk
Wound up a blurry photo.
Our time differs from its past.
Each epoch passed something on:
A disaster, a monument, a memory.
The end of all fashion is nigh.
The corpse of the Model is found,
Used as evidence for new ground.
After fashion ended, a world:
A form of indifference
With structural stratagems.
Everything is made to Be Art.
The cadaver science raised,
Like a microscopic angel,
Delivered us from Cogito.
The entirety of the cosmos
Died, being a cycle system,
But came back the very next day –
Spinning and laughing and
Out of control.
Free from the law of closure and
The law of circularity,
We are not bound by events
Nor the guise of repetition.
The past is an afraid beast,
Its lair what was done;
And to ourselves it seems, at least,
The past will not spare anyone.
[on a lighter note …