excerpts from: O Beautiful Death™ A Rage Device Index
observable dual hemispheric binaural spectroscopy: when branes collide
( the first cosmo-ecological inkling of the manifest destiny miscalculation )
chaffed.
chaffed cosmos.
sure, but isn’t this a biopic about zombie astrophysicists?
or a low-budget science documentary about the multiverse?
double-check your constellations app
refresh
your screen
your semantic atlas hung with hue
everett’s cartography
& in shades of night falling
in sheaths of thought
the oaring of it
its depth & wideness
distant, thus
voiceless
“falling
stars”
red shifting into oblivion?
no,
no hubble eureka, no euphoria
only the observable
anthropomorphic inflated territorial subjectivity reflex—
“watch it, man
you’re rubbing my other brane”
identity crises in the toxological visual ecstasy of the ever-modulating echochamber™
( read my lingus: no new lapsus )
O anti-vaxxers in these medicated system pendulums
we only want to revel in the side-effects of your feel-good sleep meds
behold the heated knives of our buttery information spread
behold the smart bomb progeny & our chaffed ontological distempers
behold the technological fabrique of sur-veillance & sous-veillance
behold the comatos’d tapestry & our hunt-of-the-unicorn bloodlust
& these are only the words for the numbers ?!
O look at you, undersigned & overdosed in numeral wefts of systemic blur-rings
within your hyper-individuated manifestos of your socially mediated feelings
within your corporate social media personhood, “like” your favorite companies
within your updates & alerts, while your entropic gear’d cogs of death™
spin, spin, spin
O look at you, waiting
all ewok-like, dizzy & giddy with tiny ewok-horns bleating deep state anthems
[ bup bup bup baaaaaaa! buuuuup buuuuup buuuuup baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! ]
you’re the special ops twitterized privatization surgical trauma transplanter
you’re the invert’d spirits of jacob riis still wandering the lower east-side
you’re 19thC realists, the holy ghosts of some third person’s omniscience
& with your logos flashlights™, your radical 19thC “points of view”
morph
into flies feeding on the eyes of dead animals
( in some peripheral otherwhere. in a parched field, maybe? idk )
god damn the eyes of christ
I’m feeling
all
henry james
in unending cinematic ecstasies of noted but impotent difference
long live the 19thC romanticist’s discoveries of stochastic form, content, & process
long live the 19thC democracy-cum-anarchist romanticist novel frame-tales
long live the 19thC romanticist’s ecological-socio-systemic crossover models
long live the 19thC literary realist’s progressive applications of points of view
long live the 19thC realist variants of our limit membranes, our variable parameter
cults, & the logic of wild & even pragmatic unlimited growth on earth, ltd.
O & the ever-so radical 20thC al smith-cum-FDR new deal negentropy slope?
long live the 19thC in the throes of its 21stC death-by-a-million-schizophrenic-cuts
& with vicarious thrills, my versailles sympathy fountain with water-spitting cherubs
& my milton friedman golden chalice of capital’s inventory
doth trickle down the sloping board of cysts in this stem’s deeper circuits
hear the faint drips in darkness
& behold with ears
the deeper well
through which
from these reagan’d fleshwounds it flows
O agamben tricksters before the altar of j. d. bernal’s social devil
turn off your cells, & in the flat-black obsidian john dee screen
see yourself for yourself for what we are
for the umpteenth diagnostic yield of the steinbeck eyeball harvest
is in
it’s like a “like” logic
it’s a self-replicating chip implanted in your digital soul
it’s the proliferating palatial versailles mirror syndrome
& this is the iktomee dream team toxology report
for all any one does do
is watch
yourself
watching
yourself
watching
yourself
watching
yourself
watching
yourself
watching
yourself
watching
yourself
every one of you
a panopticon
a “las meninas” slinky™
a my-opic FYI
to eff my eye
& why I eyes ya
O my angioplastic eyeball
it’s supposed to be
my little pony
my emily dickenson
my edgar huntly
my ambien
my sonata
my lunesta
it’s an all mine
& it’s all my micro & all my macro
O place your dear little godheads on pre-soften’d cure-all cure pillows
& if you sleep on your side, you’ll want to take
big data exhaust expectorant™
to cough-up the slabs of graphs & polls & marketing strategies
for street-corner techno evangelists
proselytizing cryonic rip van winkles
in the sleepy village of best-buy
( just before closing time )
& the remedies on our large-scale corporate farms?
eyeballs™
to behold these spectacles of our visual ecstasy
planted in manured furrows to fertilize distractions
to seed & spawn the invasive species that we are
in this animated gif re-make: “war of the corporate worlds”
stilt-walking, long-legged emersonian eyeballs
vs.
the lumbering, sauropod star wars at-at walkers
O catalogy malfunction, all of my “dystopia now” fabrications
have been mfg’d in static “see-what-I-mean?” Q&A manuals
( panic’d? feeling trapped? whatever do we do? )
O fuck, what’s in your wallet?
& what color is your light saber?
& which disney princess are you?
the one that eats kittens?
deep in his star incubator, st. laurence weeps
( the treasury of effects & the dangers of the historical prophets revealed )
the ovipositor of history
aches
with swollen distemper
& crazy utopian energy
see the inventory
for yourself
with your eyes
whirling beach balls of death
purchase the galactic shopping cart handle
with black oven mitts
lift off
the lid of the flammarion dome
behold
the false deathcap
hold fetal stars in the palm of your hand
they purr & purl & burn
as if you could ever imagine infinity
when it’s only that which
has been
& could be
everywhere
but here
Michael Peters, A Short Biographical Statement: Polymathic wunderkind fuck-up? An architect of starry portals to and from malleable stochastic wonderlands? Michael Peters is a poet, visual poet, fictioneer, musician, and the author of Vaast Bin (Calamari) among other assorted language art works. Using sound-imaging tactics in old and new media as the environment necessitates, Michael's work has appeared in print and online journals, and can be found in various anthologies, special collections, and avant-garde libraries, as well as on a variety of recording labels. See more here: http://www.michael-peters.com/.
Michael’s work last appeared in Barzakh in 2015, in Issue #7.