A morning sun
slaps at cold, gunmetal steel
crystalline ice-geometries liquify
a hollow torso
gleaming
Warmed sinew and bone
taste heat
Mechanized metal limbs, fused by neglect
shake off the cold, bend at unfamiliar angles
01 Programs stutter
Frigid iron pathways explode into a million synaptic colors
This system whole, lurches
Leaving behind the sunken impression
of a forsaken inhuman shell
on the frost-bitten earth
Imma gonna scream at you
here in my big-boy chair
here in my big-boy rage
Imma gonna learn you somethin'
here with my righteous pistol-pen
here with my righteous mind
Imma gonna make some noise
here behind my faceless angry eyes
here behind my namelss techno-lust
Imma gonna knock you down
here with my alphabetical hypocrite's sword
here with my meandering brave word
Imma never gonna learn nothin'
here on my one-way street
here in my one-way mind
here in my choral womb
here with my mindless brothers grimm
here with my white noise
Imma gonna scream at you
I'm a starving teen pop shitlet.
I'm a product with a purr.
I'm an echo of an echo
of an inner-city slur.
You're our perfect target market
You're a blotched and blemished pet
You're a flawed and useless artifact
that just shits and farts and sweats
We're a painted perfect army.
We're so filthy but so clean.
We're a nippletastic cataclysmic
televised machine.
We're an ever present vacuum.
We're the itch beneath your cast.
We're the photogenic shadow
of some feigned iconoclast.
We're a foul, seeping culture
With no pulse nor soul nor base
We're a sickly black umbilical
For a damaged human race
- - Available in stores November 30
* * Featuring the hit singles:
"You are inadequate and require cosmetic surgery"
and
"Young girls should not eat"