the sensation youre feeling is the quickening
coming up out of something and into your grille
all edges and heavy outlines like a superhero
font zooming into the inexhaustible past
conditional sea, which is when you will finally
become mortal and know what everyone alive
is thinking and will actually think this
is a good thing, both for you and for them,
you ‘firm immediate knot’ of a regent, you
flaming magnesium ribbon picketing reality,
binding nothing. your ways into time will
be cruel, your ways out likewise. but
for now you can just relax on the couch
and spend some quality time with your priceless
antique scythe collection, going over the
self-violence techniques you were taught
450 years ago by a camp af conquistador
in your head and saying to yourself
“what else but death do we have in abundance?”
and “yes i really should get that tattooed
onto my deathless armpit”. good luck
to you. we are just here in our sad
dollar cell, like a million others, in the flooring
of which youve conducted umpteen experiments,
whose latest generation involved lacing
it with the blockchain language sieve we
are all now extruding our bodies and their
inalienable time through. you are not
at a loss, you are the loss that we are at.
the problem of how to end. solved.