There will be nothing left for me to say
So I’ll just fuck until I’m dumb

With this blood under my nails
Prying these machines apart
With their parts inside my hands, in mind

Until I am no longer numb

The loudest message
Contains oversaturation
Too much data makes for noise
Not information

There will be nothing left for me to say
So I’ll just fuck until I’m dumb

The animal’s transit is heuristic
Judgment under uncertainty predictable
Few possibilities, all irresistible

If I could compress your life’s actions
Into a little wafer, thinner than your skin
And wear it like a hologram
Mediocre oil slick of everyone
Ain’t got a clou, because none of it matters

There will be nothing left for me to say
And I’ll just fuck until I’m dumb

Manufactured stories that have never happened
Let’s burn those pages to the ground
Don’t want to read about it in Proxima Nova
Until I’m numb

Tongue in mouth
And hand of thumb
These same old words
Inside our mouths.

September 1, 2023 | Filed under Prose.