SIXTEEN SHATTERDREAM

𝟙. Election (Faithless)

YOU KNOW FEWER AND FEWER PEOPLE HAVE "CABLE TV." IT IS GOING TO BE A TOTAL INFORMATIONAL MESS. THE POST-CONSENSUS CAN ONLY DEEPEN ITS RIFTS AS WE CLEAVE. SENT OUT ON ICE FLOES. GOODNIGHT. →

Ambient anxiety.

Wafting off everyone.

Tang of uncertainty.

Captured attention.

.

"I wish they could both lose."

I'd joked.

Seriously.

.

"We all lose."

I'd thought.

Internally.

.

That's the outcome.

The only option.

Flaccid fictions.

Busted functions.

.

I hate all this shit.

Beneath my contempt.

We elevate frauds.

Didn't sign up for this.

.

So I'm OUT.

Californian anyway.

It's for free.

Doesn't matter what I say.

The homeland's secure.

Balm.

Bombs away.

→

[tropical drumming]

𝟚. Two Unrelated Thoughts, Typed

            These are offerings to god from god.
            I am nothing and no one.
            .
            The end of submissive imagery is necessary.
            But the screen droolers will fight like hell for their gutter religion.
        

𝟛. Five Shots

            Information dents.
            Plenty time for penitence.
            .
            Bullets penetrate.
            A clean exit.
            Get away.
        

𝟜. Samey

            Shepherd's crook come collect me.
            Gone on too long.
            Too long.
            .
            Operator disconnect me.
            I'm so sick of this song.
        

𝟝. Scratch Marks

            I've seen the writing on the wall.
            Wail appalled.
            Your wilting wealth and your failing health.
            Wail, wail the night away.
            .
            I can tell you how it autocompletes.
            For every icon a clasm.
            Syllable shit shoveled in pulpits.
            .
            They say the body keeps the score.
            The count's coming up on a couple more.
        

𝟞. Minimum Viable Product

            Air waves.
            .
            I sneer.
            .
            A mind slams closed.
        

𝟟. Suffering Bastard

            You've got to figure you're someone's cautionary tale.
            .
            An ocean's praise.
            A sip to ease the ache.
            We set sail and it's knots for days.
            .
            Wet what will.
        

𝟠. Music for Bygone Girls

            LA's not in LA anymore.
            The growth you seek's beyond the green door.
            .
            New York's not the City no more.
            SF fractured by the Bay.
            .
            All the same.
            Day by day.
            .
            Run.
            Run, run.
            Run away.
        

𝟡. Words Found Typed (Uncertain Value)

            Illogical eschaton.
            Impossible perspectives.
            Lost causes and retracted clauses.
        

𝟙𝟘. Final Exchange

Illegitimate sunrise. · Two men, each 120 years of age. · A folding table, two folding chairs.
On the table, a single shoe tree (left foot). · A barren landscape —

Gigi: The shoe tree? . Dodo: Yours now. . Gigi: How much? . Dodo: Everything. . Gigi: Fair. . [Pause] . Dodo: My turn? . Gigi: To buy? . Dodo: To sell. . Gigi: Ah. . [Long silence] . Dodo: Well? . Gigi: Well what? . Dodo: The shoe tree. . Gigi: Oh. Yes. Here. . Dodo: How much? . Gigi: Everything. . Dodo: Fair. . [They stare at the shoe tree] . Gigi: Again tomorrow? . Dodo: What else? . [Curtain]

𝟙𝟙. And Error

            He'd tried acting but it was all attempted rape.
            Voice acting but it was gatekept to shit —
            a cartel!
            Music but it was totally fake.
            .
            &
            .
            Art but it was prostitution.
        

𝟙𝟚. Indignity

I had a terrible thought while I was pissing in a bush.

Soon enough there'll be motion detectors.

Everywhere.

They'll know just when you're there.

Forever a killbot en route.

𝟙𝟛. The Last Castrato

            Voice of a generation.
            Vermin in veneration.
            Higher and higher and higher.
            .
            Nullo culture castrated.
        

𝟙𝟜. Beggars' Beliefs

She could be so hot. The tattoos. The bull ring. . Would you keep her blonde? With the roots? . I like the roots. . I think I'd take her brunette. . Maybe redhead. Yeah. Could be good. . The lip-liner's hideous. And the tattoo. . You know what I think it is? . What? . The tattoos. . What about them? . I think it's that, like — you know, most tattoo artists — they're men. . Yeah, probably, right? You gotta figure. . And they're creepy dudes. Lot of 'em. I mean the ones I've met. I, yeah — . You don't want to think about the permanent mark of some other man's hands. . Right. . And he's penetrated her forever. . Gets under my skin a bit. . [ALL LAUGH]

𝟙𝟝. Fuck (This, Again)

Count backward from 99. Shepherd's accountancy. Insomnia of youth. . Typefaces and fonts. Video games. . Start over. Can't focus. Drug freak out. Clenching everywhere. . Akathisia. . Rocking. Hallucinations. Air conditioning.

𝟙𝟞. Demolished Verse

            Predeceased predecessor.
            Half a man by any measure.
            An uncertain engine starts.
            .
            Humans proteins in the piss.
            I smell dying.
            .
            Eternal master.
        