Your aspect ratio’s wrong.
Stretching the truth
this long sows fertile ground
for artifacts, glitches,
quirks & bugs, worming
& squirming beneath pixel
shrugs. The worst kind
plump the frame to god-
awful proportions, bloating
bigger & bigger & bigger ‘til
vision’s engulfed.
Or the kind that squeeze
spaghetti confetti onto
our plates, drenched in
the Sauce of the Week
that “can’t be beat!”.
Your skewed parallax
attacks the facts at hand.
Recycle your *******
fax machine this second before
it grows smarter than
you. Yes, you—with the rolly
polly eyes & feint surprise—
quit pretending you’re dumb,
'cause you ain’t that numb
to the stings & pangs of change.
Your sloppy hacks produce
quantity @ the cost of quality
to benefit the greedy & satisfy
the needy, becoming seedy
to the logic of reason.
Correct your inputs to render
outputs worth tender & please
remember, it’s what’s within
the frame that’s important,
so get it right.

I’m too smart to fall in love,
Because let’s face it well all know
It belongs on the T.V. screens
And in between pages
And in thoughts and dreams
And for other people around the world
And for the birds and the bees
And for our parents
And grandparents
And their parents before
And well, just not for me.

Good Morning America
Act Now!
For today the price is right.
Our American idols have been conveniently portioned and pre-packaged for your enjoyment.
The wheels of fortune have turned in our favor,
laying us down in our warm beds of satisfaction.
Dreaming of the X-factor that will give us our
fifteen minutes

A girl,
no more than sixteen
and pregnant
strives to be a top model.
Overexposed and underdeveloped
barely able to read or write,
she is paraded in front of a camera and lights.
And the studio exec will keep cuttin' those paychecks
as long as you keep tuning in for another
fifteen minutes

The education can wait until the spotlight fades
who needs class mates when you got fans,
as long as those lights keep flashing on your fame, you got another
fifteen minutes

the kind of questions I get are about
death and shoving addiction in my face
I realize that you want peace like I do
(we feel the need to explain to you this predicament)
I laugh because I have to-
(we've got breaking news, Sir Blank Blank Blank has been killed)
what a shame
that one can leave so soon
'
this is the place where the living no longer live
the dead live more than they do
so I wait to find a way out but the doors are locked and
the sirens are going off
and the TV turned on by itself to bring me this important message:
(Sir Blank Blank Blank has been killed)
and I wrote a note for you and your charisma
it's on the table when you come into the house

isn't it special
and isn't nice
they're dropping bombs from the planes tonight

so let your red hair drop a little farther
and let my eye be fixated on the idea
that when you leave (for good)
that one day you'll come back
at my door and fall to the ground
begging and pleading for
me to realize that you loved me
more than I loved you
but it'll be too late because
by then I'll be gone
and I'll refuse to turn back on

As I'm writing this
all I'm thinking of are the pauses
between your words when you stop to wet your
mouth with the disregard of others'
thoughts.
I think of the pauses the people on tv take
They've made those silent but how they shape our lives has become Louder

The pauses in my sister's words are deliberate. because she
can not speak toofast    t o o  f a r   too out of hand
about the things she cares for.
Her words are Broken by the slow sounds of
A mouth closing and
opening others to her opinions closing
them to their own.

I hear my mouth
I hear the way breath skids over my lips like a body being dragged
behind an old pickup.
I hear my mouth make wet noises and
I ask myself how to be dryer
I ask myself why I breathe like I do
because my Living isn't supposed to be a statement.
My life isn't supposed to interrupt
anyone else's.

All I'm thinking of
is that your pauses
interrupt my life.

She thought about him for a moment still she turned off those emotions as easily as a contract killer puts a bullet between some dumbs ******* eyes.

She said I love like a snake slithers across the floor.
How moths are so very drawn to deaths final flame.