Jonathan Hayes >
the Bomb exploded
black invisible sweater
good night good
waiting for the polaroid
little birds chirping in the sad City
“the man on the hotline said they sounded nice too.”
the angels will let go of you
will continue to watch
conversation camel light…gray commercial smoke forces the anger
back down throat.
malthus: eat kraft macaroni and cheese and grow hairy palms. (burp…eyeball!)
lyell: the same shit – uniformitarianism – over your sweaty pillow of art. (laundry?)
darwin: 19th-century noble father of an out-of-control theory. (selecting?)
sociobiology: sin justified minus responsibility – sign me up. (genetic who-control?)
whitehead: the general form of thought is a structure. dimly aware of it. (dummy head!)
gaia is a chick who won’t die, today….
‘round the ferris wheel of spam: lighter, smoke, beer and a cheap kitchen stare into an angle waiting for linoleum…skin is a slut and the spine pines to be nailed down after slumping too many couched years of preferred satisfaction of response not coming back.
the tofu taste like tuna fish
a yellow pergola. simply feign. primary colors whistling from three happy walls. a line may discord anything from faculty of hyper-compression. bread & circus. an otaku gladiator of images, thwarted by an incendiary red. essayed & hallooed. than not. well, a knot of sorts. i’m talking to
parasol the providence. & language police assail hither with mecha.
a pond oiled in twenty-seven shades of green anime. negative “i” espied subtraction of “self.” marooned in the middle of soupy biosphere. divided dimensions of cartoon land. split-second inky entrances into rabbit hole. an omelet with the subtext of disney. rubber- hose animation surreals a stretch to elastic lines of squash & laugh. a gag back in the bag at pleasure island.
pinocchio, the innocent savage.