A Demoralizing Poem [spoken word, biogenerated]

 A Demoralizing Poem

Show me a demoralizing poem. I’m sick of being inspired. I’ve had just about all the inspiration I can stomach for one lifetime. I want to wallow in something hopeless. Give me death or give me liberty (at least) from flower poems and self-actualization. I want Sylvia Plath to rip my heart out. Show me the depravity of this world. The shocking cruelty of it all. The base nature that can erupt from each and every one of us given the proper circumstances. Show me our ravenous greed. I want truth, not beauty. Those who confuse beauty and truth become fascists. Always appealing to a singular standard. Always reducing everyone to an ideal.

If you’re not familiar, let me welcome you to the truth. The world is filled with passive order followers who will torture and murder on the word of authority. Fuck human nature and anything that glorifies it. Show me some self-loathing to build character. Fuck your confidence. It’s overrated. Wallow in agony and I’ll see your truth. 

Whatever doesn’t kill you

Brings you closer to death

& closer still

We fall into survival processing

Anxiety-driven impulses

That drive up our blood pressure

Leading to heart failure

I Love You to Death [biogenerated poem]

 I Love You to Death

When male and female anglerfish mate, the male angelfish latches onto the female and is slowly absorbed into her body until the two form a single bloodstream. 

If I had a womb, I would put you inside of it

Let you fester deep within me

Behold my death, it’s glory casting rivulets

Of blood from your wrists

And me drinking every bit of your thirst

Like a lying enemy who isn’t where he appears

I am in two places at once now

In front of you and behind you

You are suffocating perfectly

In a perfect sympathy 

From which your lips

Purse enigmatically and I

Put my ear in a box until

All of your dreams come true

The Curse [biogenerated poetry]

 The Curse

I am 

piece by piece

to pieces

a piece a part

of me

Yearning to be whole 

The Girl with Imaginary Eyes [biogenerated poetry]

 The Girl with Imaginary Eyes

She couldn’t help

But always be naked

It was in her

To never rhyme

But always reason

Her way out of a rhythm

And when she walked

It was always sideways

Blinking at the starlight

I met her when

The world was still young

The sun had yet to meet the moon

The stars were pulsing 

to the rhythm of the first song

And Night had just been born

And she sputtered starlight

Through her eyes, bright with seeing

To anchor the shame to a far away shore

Untouched as yet by dusk or dawn

We matched rhythms in the twilight

Of undifferentiated energy

And bundled ourselves

Into twisted knots

Stomach Bug [bio-generated poetry, CW: skat]

 Stomach Bug 

I knew it was over

When I started blowing

dry farts into the toilet

When you have the stomach flu

You must exercise extreme caution

With every fart lest you be doing laundry

To rid your pants of shit

Every fart is a possible landmine of gooey butt sludge

You'll run out of pants if you're not careful

Farts, usually heralding a comfortable satisfied feeling, 

Are now your enemy

Yes, stomach flus can turn once beloved friends into enemies

That is the true evil behind its power

It completely destroys your ability to function

As a social being

Nobody wants to be around a shit pants man

And there’s no telling when that bell’s about to ring

So hunker down shitty fellow

And brace yourself for a lonely night

Of writing obscene poetry

For relief

Beware of Narratives [bio-generated poetry]

 Beware of Narratives

Beware of narratives

They arrange the truth to form a fiction

They just want to produce a feeling

Narratives are drugs

To elicit emotions 

In a tactical fashion

Narratives have more agency

Than men

Who fall to the siren song

& the gentle play of emotions

Like musical notes in an orchestra

Levying your allegiance 

Slowly lowering your resistance

Flowing into a melody it lures you

To believe yourself behind until

You’re seeing everything from a single lens

And there you have it

The narrative has more agency

Than the believer

Why do they choose forgetting? [biogenerated haiku]

 Why do they choose forgetting?

All I remember 

Nothing compares to whatever

it takes to forget