Dark Light

I would liked to have lived in the day of the “EXTRA.” And “read all about it” is just what I would have done.

How sweet, the old film montage of spinning front pages and out-sized fonts, and all those scruffy dead-end kid hawkers.

How cool to cop the ink-stained recent, throw a nickel on the counter for a cup of Joe, and peruse the latest symptoms of the human condition through the lazy smoke of a Lucky Strike.


“Le Petit Mort”ported poorly

She claims she romanced her way into a bad marriage,
a self seduction of an ontological orgy of nuptials
most-post-postmodern.

Sure, irony still gets me off, she mused, but a believe
in myth is the new climax, and this sleeping beauty is
now wide-a-woke.

And the French ha ha about the little death, when
extinction is the new foreplay, and say hey anyway,
Reason… the new pornography.


And if content is King then we’re all less than even migrant workers on whichever server farm is in vogue. And no shot at going rogue, as routers packet but they do not parse.


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