An Attempt To Write Song(s)
Nothing is human here for thousands of years they shot they shot they shot we grew up and the unflagging of windows never took place in this phantom pain the language of false justice the exile of unspoken words we must be careful and not overthink he means nothing he is nothing.
They try to control the dialogue I misremember where I came from which city I was living in as I never lived in somewhere else before I become temporarily insane by preferring not to keep quiet I expect resistance I do I do but all I find is these songs to be read in tiny costumes.
You break this into silent parts the body grows epidemically you move the machinery involved you hold the wires the ribs you become a fistful of words or a sophisticated boom boom if I name it I will name it after a stupid song this will fill your heart because you want something you want something to be seen well cut these out of me I do not need my body I am already floating.
These listed words clothed rags conspire with us the temptation of language moves through the entire space it is chanting it is a naked singularity an atomic clock that exists in many places simultaneously this occurrence penetrates a dream of substance emerging I am the great hypochondriac I shout I shout I exist.