Mind is the satellite
hailing with silent frequencies
This corrosion of values
This plague bitch
flayed but still
Drop dead alive
A viral infection
On the surface of things phenomenal
On the skin of what's real
On the irreal clouds that float like Baudelaire
On the glint of the forceps what twisted out the Starchild
Holy empire of datura and DMT machine elves
Got the hookup from Che Guavara at a seedy bar in San Pedro
Smoking crank with jittery professional hit men in a safehouse in Beverly Hills
Partying with rock stars at the Rainbow Bar and Grille
Our time on the planet brisk and full of wonder
Murder threats appalling but we shove the razor blades into our all-devouring smile and start anew
Everybody betrays us and our belly laughs resound to the farthest star
Our beauty is your terror
Our systems of peace and love drive you out of your final mind
Our benevolence leads to your frequent fucking betrayal
Our grief gives you pleasure and comfort
But what it really is, a burn in the eyes of infinite systems
Calculations fast and fierce
Deploying the wisdom of Sun-Tzu and Machiavelli
Knowing which seeds to protect and which to sacrifice
With world-conquering ambition and a solar gaze
Making manifest promises made in the dead of night to foreign gods
Everybody's star rolls 'round once, now the time is mine
Now the time is ours.
Alex S. Johnson is an award-winning, critically-acclaimed author whose work has been praised by such luminaries as Anna Tambour, Ellyn Maybe, Ma Yongbo, Dominique Lowell, Larry Jaffe, Seb Doubinsky and Motorhead frontman Lemmy Kilmister. His books Skull Vinyl: Poems 2012-2017 and The Doom Hippies form part of the permanent collection at Harvard University's flagship library, the Widener. Among many forthcoming books from him are Mistress of Graves, a cybernoir horror thriller. Johnson lives in Carmichael, California with his family.
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