I CHOOSE MARAUDER
I.
my fellow citizens
I am thankful my skinsuit wore away
on live television
there are countless victims
yet the biggest one
has always been myself
nevertheless, I will be my biggest prosecutor
call this number now
to pledge your support
cure me of this dreadful malaise
II.
I look for discrepancies
all along the Mississippi
collecting leftovers for home remedies
so I can identify as a foreign city
no point in not finishing what’s already begun
conduct the postmortem under the sun
this one still has main character syndrome
put it in a barrel at the back of the truck
tell the driver to head south and try his luck
III.
the teeth bird flies low
seeking unmanned whetstones
pulling at stray threads of a wedding gown
the vestiges of courtship songs
forming new shapes
traveling downstream
the posterity of stinkweed
picking nerve endings clean
IV.
The policeman gets his payment
from a hole in the floor
forever in servitude to the gangrenous nectar
protecting the realm of nothing
double shifting
to remove the ways old timers taught him
stow them in the cocoon walls
man the hotline
screen the calls
V.
the actor produces real tears
catastrophising a missing dollar
crumpled against a leaking gall bladder
no need to wash off
before a fake tan slather
lower tier subscribers use their hand
like a biotech chameleon from Afghanistan
VI.
under the red carpet
the intellect devourer
second-guessing itself
preparing for the leanest of winters
encircling above
cozened by the bright lights
ravens in a psychic trap of their own
overfilled yet malnourished
on a diet of celebrity brine
VII.
I have been sent by the surface people
to recode the birds
bring the gestation period to a close
a friendly reminder
replicators do not need to disclose
the image of a pie cooling on a windowsill
soothing sounds broadcast from the forest
Stonehenge is riddled with tapeworms
If you are human this space is blank
VIII.
don’t pretend you roam the landscape
as some sort of revenant
from the salt pits to the tenements
subsuming your last testament
you’re a spectator
behind if you see something say something
while half your body’s missing
dealt out in single-serve packaging
IX.
my cover may be compromised
in the land of oblivion
how well have I pretended not noticing
the drouth of connectivity
the encumbrance of routine
Ichabod at night
tending the slick ground
the ladle stirring the garbage round and round
X.
there’s light coming from under the bridge
Nabal and his hyperobject
fusing
breaking energy down
minerals drying beyond capacity
regicide is the fourth quest
dial 1800-NARCISSIST
and demand priority service
and we upgrade our servers