poem: savior complex on 4chan

i dreamed we fucked inside my dms -- no better than that i dreamed you crawled next to me and held me. when i open up my laptop i think, here!and now! he has finally come for me (cognition error) i am languishing sexless in the tower with the algorithm fucking me, like weare in…

poem: the kids from yesterday

we are people waiting in the sunlight, going after stimulus after stimulus after stimulus. we are disenchanted: girls sitting, stitching embroidery into pants— boys making suits from torn-off skins, the flesh still wet and rotting. we are taken from text and retold as myth: a New Generation, all jazzed all pixelated, reliving 2003 like we…

On “Relevance” and Art

“Radical” self-love is just sloth repackaged. There is nothing radical about lazing on a couch, binge-watching television for ten straight hours. If done in moderation, this might be considered “taking a break” — though from what, I couldn’t say, as binge-watching hardly allows for silence and recovery. Consumption of popular media can be both educational…