an estimated 52% of internet traffic
is composed of bots & i am in love
with everyone i have ever matched
with on tinder.
windows, planes, electronic billboards
exploding in the sky. the pornography
of our time is a veal, a candle, a million
realistic camel emojis.
i paint a shadow. the shadow becomes
a person. the person acts as a shadow.
if something pretends to think & i think
it thinks am i that something?
i make an avatar. my avatar is like me
but they have abs & a motorcycle. my
avatar is like me but they can still see
my dead friends.
my avatar is planting flowers. my avatar
is playing saxophone. my avatar is making
an avatar. my avatar is shooting up in
a wendy’s bathroom.
my avatar is an arm, a mouth, a thigh.
i reach for their hand but hit
i slit a trout’s
throat and watch pills
erupt across the countertop
i am drinking
& walking through a burning
house— ash collecting
in drifts. god exits the body
through oxygen masks,
aluminum foil, smoke
i am removing
my clothing at the top
of the mountain. i am
moving tectonic plates
like vertebrae. the knife
finds the slats in the ribs—
the ground is choking
with leaves and suboxone
wrappers. most days
i feel sick