Contents
The ad in my inbox asked
“What do your walls say about you?”
The subject line alone didn’t scream paint or posters
But by the time I caught on
my mind had wandered off
toward my newly invented conception of the southern border
Having never been there, my mind’s eye projected
a subtropical Canada and moved along
An indeterminable time later I found myself
plastered to a screen with the term “Anthropocene”
splashed across it, an ascoted philosopher gazing back
and his look alone confirmed his intent, which is to say
nature no longer exists
Like truth, it’s a laboratory that’s been
all but abandoned and graffitied with memes
All this information meanwhile washes over me, telepathically
I mean littoral electronic waves lapping my cranial cave
like an ice cream cone or an erogenous zone
I’m baptized by the firing signals I’m exposed to always
a.k.a. the Internet and my brain
flailing fire-hose refreshment spraying
a hall of one-way mirrors projecting
accessible shadows into the comfort of my dome
each message injection a predilection reflection
revealing why, by definition
unfogging the fishbowl is an inside job
📥
The ad in my inbox asked
“What do your walls say about you?”
The subject line alone didn’t scream paint or posters
But by the time I caught on
my mind had wandered off
toward my newly invented conception of the southern border
Having never been there, my mind’s eye projected
a subtropical Canada and moved along
An indeterminable time later I found myself
plastered to a screen with the term “Anthropocene”
splashed across it, an ascoted philosopher gazing back
and his look alone confirmed his intent, which is to say
nature no longer exists
Like truth, it’s a laboratory that’s been
all but abandoned and graffitied with memes
All this information meanwhile washes over me, telepathically
I mean littoral electronic waves lapping my cranial cave
like an ice cream cone or an erogenous zone
I’m baptized by the firing signals I’m exposed to always
a.k.a. the Internet and my brain
flailing fire-hose refreshment spraying
a hall of one-way mirrors projecting
accessible shadows into the comfort of my dome
each message injection a predilection reflection
revealing why, by definition
unfogging the fishbowl is an inside job
📥