Page 31 of The Bread We Eat in Dreams

and unlovely

I am plastic

and mass-produced

I am the tiny threaded needle

of unaltered primordial unlawful beauty-after-horror

of everything that is left of you

glittering glorified

when the Company Man

has used you up

to build the Company Town.

Hey.

they used me, too.

I thought we were just having fun. Put me in the movies, mistah!

The flickies! The CINEMA.

The 20s were one long champagne binge.

I used to be

a goggling plague mouse shrieking deadstar spaceheart

now I’m a shitty

fire retardant polyurethane

keychain.

Hey there. Hi there. Ho there.

What I am the god of

is the fleck of infinite timeless

hilarious

nuclear inferno soul

that can’t be trademarked

patented bound up in international courts

the untraded future.

That’s why

my priests

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