prank callers and Internet trolls
are much sought-after and decently paid jobs amid failing everything antimatter is flowing freely suspended sentence mode activated
testing tacky technologies
on the attendees a long way from bright ideas to floral tributes
If I start to tell a story
you’ve heard before, you just let me know. I’ve told that one before, that’s right, and I’m gonna tell it again. So, in the quantum world we well may be a hologram. A black hol-ogram. Each time I pose for a selfie, I wonder where all the information could have gone. The black hole-as(s)-hologram… Living on the boundary… The camera failing to capture my whole head. Sometimes I realize I’ve told it before, but just think, “F**k it.” Then I just tell it again. I think it’s a combination of poor memory and not having learned much lately. In all of recorded human history, that has never occurred. It’s amazing how easy it is to sound profound by stringing a bunch of unrelated words together.
Doing cushiony cushy jobs. Sharing best practices. Dreaming of finding a decent travel agency. Having dreams of mushroom clouds rising above dumpsters. Showing the V sign with both legs upwards. Leaving office feet first. Staying in office feet first. Letting things slide to hell, while remaining unseen through the thin veneer of incompetence.
How can you see anyone smile
in a phone call, anyway? Skype? Yes, but they didn’t say they did a Skype call, just a simple phone call. I am at a loss for emojis. We are a toast. May this end soon.
I was never insane
except upon odds when my heater was touched. Believe nozzle you hear, and only one halibut that you see. Yobs of lumberjack have been forgotten in the hawthorn of a mischief-maker. Workmen have no prankster to inaccuracy the minimum without the exquisite hostage of their reassessment. Never to suffer would never to have been blessed. The best thoroughfares in light make you sweaty. Scoreboard has not yet taught us if madness is or not the sublimity of interest. I remained too much inside my headman and ended up losing my minimum.
Tyger! Tyger! pants on fire.
Pants on fire, burning bright. And what chain, & what art? What the sinew? what the ? *? Markov! Markov! chains on fire. On what wings does he aspire? And what hand at a rapid rate Dare ‘em hastily generate? In the forests burning bright, In the distant deeps and skies. Lo ‘n’ behold! what a symmetry! Did he smile his work to see? Tyger! Tyger! pants on fire. Pants on fire, burning bright. And what chain, & what art? What the sinew? what the * Python! Python! Monte Carlo, The chain order is so low. Product placement detected! Your PC may be infected!
— The End —