Dystopian Diptych

1.

If all

we are

is information

who is

going to

harvest us?

2.

When the

Apocalypse comes

what will

that climax

feel like?

A storm

of zeros

and ones?

Fragment 

I as

slow fermentation

of surrogates --

unstable distiller

of substitutes.

Attachment Issues

 He swallows

rubber bands

and paper clips.

Another Zombie Poem

                                     for Thomas Fink and Mark Young

When words

won't come

ignore the Unsaid

trying to eat

your brain.

 From the Notebooks

Hear the ass

in praxis?

Bodies present

as practice.

Loops a

body was

waste away --

poem

half-heard

barely uttered.

 

One wonders

about ease.

What is

that like?

Noise makes

me think

words work

like weeds.