somehow liars are always ugly
I don't know how the universe does this
but **** am I right

you may not notice
(the pointy beak, acne and cancer moles)
but if you really really focus

somehow I'm right

I've got a grasp on my black telephone
Holding it tight to my ear
No fear. He'll pick up
It's like 3AM or later
I'm ****** up 
Dropped my wallet in the elevator
Now I've stumbled into bed 
Living dead and seeing red

Ring
Ring
Ring

"We're sorry..."

Thoughts swarm like locusts 
Bug-buzzing in the phone
Sweating my spray tan on the bed sheets
Left alone with a dial tone.

Nightstand pill bottle Jesus
I'm reaching out for you

It's been ringing for a few minutes now
I've rolled up in the coiled phone cord
'I think the room is spinning'
Tilt-a-whirl bed taunts my stomach
'I'm home at least'
'I need to tell him how I feel'

Ring
Ring -

"We're sorry, the number you have called
Is not in service at this time
Please check the number
Or try your call again."

I watched his heart break
it dripped all over his shirt
a dark crimson swamp
I kept my distance.

I watched him fall to the ground
moving his hands across the ground (contact-searching, seemingly)
he had this look on his face of:
“where is it?”.

I thought
“I should help him”
But I knew no matter what
I’d never see those heart pieces.

I closed my eyelids.

a unique space-time I've
created. A new world with I
               and you,
and in it we're us;
pseudo pagans
               adjust
in my multiverse of could-have-been's
wannabe's and forget-me-not's,
there's a million wormholes back thru

it's a glittering new world
where we're happy forever
               (embalmed)
present-perfect continuity
we'll never need to question or worry
               of it
because it'll be ours to [edit]
a spiritual instagram. sorry for the link.

I'm a believer.
our story is brick-bound & pyramidal
it's worthy of true realness
I'll never let that faith fade.

and all I have to do is stay asleep
seal myself, artery by nerve, in this bed.
eyes closed but moving underneath
               (forever)
and here I'll lay; 1,000 years on
entirely petrified. a fossil of trust.
everything/everyone I had known - gone
               forever.
fleshy eyes, solid as stone now. Blissfully
(always) unaware of their end. No matter the time,
my (      ) still eternally & happily
               in dream.

Walking at the
A wall is keeping me
I don't see it
It's there,
This is my life
Pixel trees & beautifully rendered
Land-Scapes
Around me
Like I'm on a treadmill
Walking in place
The Country-Side on a screen
Behind me as I fake walk
I want to go further
It’s only a scripting illusion
I’m not really moving
Everything else is

There's blinking arrows
A savepoint to my right
But
I want to go that way

It won't let me
low poly text box reminds
my avatar
you can see it but you can’t have it
turn around to continue gameplay

the title is meant to be ironic
enough to draw the attention
of the easily offended and
dramatic internet users
who happen to cross this
poem.

it's ironic because 'Gay' & 'Bible'
usually come in contention;
words unfit to modify the other
a neon g-string preist is odd
but it ain't necessarily
so.

I explained this.

A sign of the times,
It's my crisis
I'll exist if I want to.

[PART ONE]
xeroxed, RT'd and plagiarized
so many times on so many blogs
tween blogs to republican blogs
to blogs in Russia and
blogs no one ever scrolls though...
original content is prey
but I have a warning for they:

overrated, over-shared
content aggregators beware
the lines you swap can
rot and ware
the World Wide Web
does not care.

[PART TWO]
original content
original contests
original continent
original controversy
original coordination between strangers
original calvary riding their connection into the battlefield of internet memes; creating nothing and sharing everything

[COMMENTARY]
original nothing, nowhere, nobody except facebook "Funny Vidoes!" & "Cool Quotes!". 'Like' pages whose sole originality lies within their own existence but nothing they share. They steal from the rest of the web and re-post what they find for out-of-the-loop troglodytes; often done so in inferior context and with no perspective. The 'refried beans' phenomenon, I call it. I find it fitting because 'refried beans' are a double misnomer. The name comes from 'frijoles refritos' - which means 'well-fried' not 'refried'. They are also never traditionally fried more than once. Yet the name sticks, it gets repeated, it gets re-shared and now that's what they are: refried beans. This phenomenon is why I believe art and all original content eventually become so over-shared and overrated that it's no longer interesting but irritating. These three parts of the poem "Original Content" are separated in abstract authorial presentation. The author has clearly expressed his dislike for the disjunct un-imagination of the internet and presents it as such.

[PART THREE]
original authors losing control of their audiences who believe they are the creators and the artist's art is somewhat shareable
original miscommunication between web 1.0 and web 2.0 reality
original alphabet they use to type on their keyboards
original grammar they learned in school
original money their gov't printed
original content they re-post
original refried beans
original content
orginal contet
ogrinal cotent
ognal ctt
oc
.

You're a thumping aggressive *******
I fight you, I hate you
I love you, too 

You're a beast with no care 
You stomp on my life
You stomp on my soul
Like King Kong on a truck
Or Genghis Khan to a neck 
You've only been here to win

A huge body of heavy hard muscle
Barreling down at me
A two-ton man, you are
You truly are. You truly are.

Heated & selfish
You're sickened by my weaknesses
A King of kings indeed.

I can't tell if you even hate me back
So I'll say goodbye now, to the man who ruled
Over my personal Iron Age;
Your eyes are empty animalian jewels
And
I'll be fooled
No more.

My aerosol life.
Suspended droplet:
A tiny Pluto
Frozen in a can.
So far from it,
Spray tan
It's not dark enough.

Bronze mirror coat,
Bind those gorgon eyes
Those jury fists
Away from me.

"It's a universal urge to pair up." They say.

It's 3 words and
Suddenly files are executing
Auto-running and auto-installing.
When you've been alone,
It's like
Every rancid dream inside of you is
Awakened. Hyper aware & readied
Preprogrammed bugs start to run.
Users in remote locations
Triggered by tracking cookies
Wheel- in backdoor worms
And all I have to do is click

I/O corrupted
Cloudy decisions, decisions

Ads for free cars, free girlfriends
Glittering pop-ups.
"Hot guys in your area!"
But **** is for the lonely
Bait;
A smiling **** Madonna 
accompanied by
Beguiling hooks, fly-paper,
You-name-it

Can't tell if I'm in love or in lure.
But I have to go for it.
And that's the point.

"I love you"
[Click]

.

I could listen to this shiny song
as many times as I wanted
here, at 4am, 
imagining you were here listening in some
onlooking crowd of fanatical people
thinking out loud what I'm singing
hearing what I mean through the lyrics and
believing.
make you make me believe it.

But it wouldn't matter.
you don't know me 
and
I'll just go
to bed now.

hi
I don't know what 2 say
Im marty and I am a man
I live in plymouth
and I drive a mini van
my fav things are
pizza friends music and my dog tracy
I play games online alone
and I am a paperboy
and my family lives overseas
dating is not my thing
so I am on this site.
and I want to fall in love.
and my fav movies are
**** bill jaws jurasic park and **** bill 2
I don't know what 2 say

maybe you liked my profile 
so send me a msg or
cyber-roses or a digital chocolate box
or click the flirt button
I like to talk sometimes
when I get lonesome.