Early-to-mid-stage formation of planetary
social memory complex via distributed
network architecture.
Your erogenous zones
localized to a server outside Reno
but accessible between
one hundred sixty and two thousand kilometers above
the crust of Terra.
Bad society.
Bad behavior.
Unsettling people.
Cryptic magic, ritual acts,
secret language, various magical incantations,
sun-god imagery, ritual nudity,
female warrior mind control,
renaissance magic, the moon, childhood memories,
and sex magic.
Formless, disconnected thought, like
ouroboros but realized in a collaborative way.
Open, hostile, distributed anarchy.
Welcoming the dawn
with modafinil and a bang,
walking around like the white
Diogenes in my sandals, looking
across the Hudson at Jersey.
All my friends want to behead Cuomo
and launch preemptive attacks on physics,
against attempts at top-down control over
the world of counterfactual futures.
I’m screening the DoorDash driver on my cellphone,
RFID-equipped geolocation chip mounted on my baguette.
You’re doing gain of function research in your apartment.
I’m coming over for some stew later.
They’re talking about UAPs on the television.
They like to see their audience floating
Israeli drones, Israeli virus,
Israeli startup incubators in the West Bank.
The first disruptor state.
Master/slave motifs. Bluepill style.
The pretty/objective face of the podcast host.
Kid-friendly ideological cartoons.
An immersive experience of sound and light.
Bashing my head on the pavement
to realize the universal republican dream,
exorcising symbols and ideas,
I’m seeing an endless yellow light.
June dew and its meaning—
spring—
in the spring
—in the wet
spring—sucking it dry.
πολυφλοίσβοιος 