HOW MANY BODIES EXCEL IN A MICROSOFT WORLD


HOW MANY BODIES EXCEL IN A MICROSOFT WORLD

my thumbnail feeds my whole body into a joint photograph, monochromed in tiny alphabets.
like any errand-ghost talked into necromancy, my skin thighs quakes in cheap havoc,
in liquid fonts that bolds a body into catholic numerals.

this was before xxx became star signs for young girls & blue movies,
before dark rooms taught us how to pirate our shadows.
before we wore our bodies as soft wears unprogrammed for hacking,
in a world cliented with yahoo gods.

i pillow my head on nightmares,
to exile my body from the star mooning after me,
searching me out to cough back dots of light & other periodic things into my thighs.

they say grief is soft-spoken.
she watermarks our bodies into an impatient dialect that is not Time new Roman.
the editor tells me to file for a refund of our body count,
but how many of these bodies excel in a microsoft world?

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