< Issue 4 >
Synthesized
by Shae Savoy
My land is retching
wretched on this crowded
city bus, this man
who sat next to me his
smells, cigarettes, unwashed
mouth, boots without socks,
a residue of metal,
how we push through
our aluminum tunnels
to sprocket circuit
-boards, fingernail half-moons
scarring all the gripped
and crushed loved things,
thin attachments, digitalphilia
like that man named Synth
who was a worshipper
of all things fabricated.
Is this instinctual.
What we create we claim
commands our desires,
loyalties.
What swallows my loyalty.
The tiny spark when
selecting menu items,
these vegetables,
this bread,
this sticky rice with mango,
the imperative to move
from this seat,
from this spreading halitosis,
those nicotine-stained hands,
this naked nasty.
Synthesized
by Shae Savoy
My land is retching
wretched on this crowded
city bus, this man
who sat next to me his
smells, cigarettes, unwashed
mouth, boots without socks,
a residue of metal,
how we push through
our aluminum tunnels
to sprocket circuit
-boards, fingernail half-moons
scarring all the gripped
and crushed loved things,
thin attachments, digitalphilia
like that man named Synth
who was a worshipper
of all things fabricated.
Is this instinctual.
What we create we claim
commands our desires,
loyalties.
What swallows my loyalty.
The tiny spark when
selecting menu items,
these vegetables,
this bread,
this sticky rice with mango,
the imperative to move
from this seat,
from this spreading halitosis,
those nicotine-stained hands,
this naked nasty.
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