Saturday, August 28, 2010

Will Be Back In Three Years To Declare War

hang with me, passive-aggressive alien arm – help me undermine the antibiotic in your deceptively mild-mannered gesticulation

the devil is under attack and it’s because of sheer intolerance that in turn causes the horny villagers nearby to gesticulate like nerdy, snitchy parking meters to inattentive, drunk nazi traffic wardens

grapes and bananas and anis seeds in the bike basket, a sex doll made of rice all squashed together by the villagers to make a killer for the antibiotic

kill the odd cocky member of the otherwise tranquil and peaceful and so-humble-they’ve-got-polio village folk, so peaceful, hating abrupt movements, loud bangs, thunder shaped like android arteries, technical problems in their robots are not sexy to them, i’ll have you know – the way the leg flops, etc

we’re not sexy today, are we? villagers tell their defective humanoid machines
who take the insults like champs, usually

but in the weeks following gradually sink into the hollow depression of a busker’s tin
what the villagers call, merely, ‘the sulks’

sir aldous fucking huxley never said that when a robot flees its village in a dandyish fit of auto-ostracism it looks like a breakup between a lego boy and a lego girl but look at the spike in the amount of emergency room visits – look at the increased usage of time machines why don’t you

all that blasting off to more ideal times (the ideal time is the only time that can fly backwards or hover still in the air – or abruptly shoot forward)

[in time]

check out the shocking decrease in holes on the village’s 2x2 inch golf course – all indicators of the ‘hurt’

everybody knows the ‘hurt’ – that loud cat noise falling wrong-side-up with ceramic vertebrae on township granite

no matter what it’s caused by

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