DAN HOY
Polyptych By Default
Old Hat
I waited. My hemoglobin fell like the price of rain. I had no narratives to impose until people appeared. “Molestar, molestar, yo quiero molestar.”
This Is Not My Fault
There’s a body in the trunk of my car. I told everyone how great it is to sleep with you. If this embarrasses you it embarrasses me too. But if anybody opens the trunk we’re fucked.
Old Haunts
We watch them kick their legs with collateral force. I confuse memories for people. The way you walk is something I once drank and threw up all over the bathroom wall. Velocity and disregard for the service workers of the world.
This Is Not My Fault
At the edge of the project I wept. It was a painting of the town the size of the town commissioned by the town. How could we rule from now on?
Ocean View
The previous tenants covered the wall with a life-size photograph of the shore on the other side. The wall made for a nice view. Sunbeams. Bird. Permacloud. Unlike the shoreline, shifting against the horizon. The previous tenants left behind their clothes, their bed, their food & drink. And we have their gun if they come back.
Terms of Use
I promise nothing will ever come between us
and our interface,
not after that antitechnotic
took the place of every k-stroke
with pictograms made of parenthetical marks and arrows
of all the ways I could be bent and penetrated
were I to actualize beyond my predetermined allotment.
Due to the memory requirements
and system limits
all concurrent programs will be shut down
moving forward prior to any uploading of stimulus,
such as songs
made out of the binary deposits of my user’s voice,
without which we could not fund our operation.
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