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The machines living on/in
my nano-memoires of noir
are a mere jungle of dendrites
But the mummy of memory
makes it all better
in this commune of bombardiering
Bussed in past the Hate Bars
and the hottest green neon flicks
or locked onto cells of messaging
I/we/you/they/the whoever
driven by the hotter pedals of marketeering
career parabolics here we go
Data-mining himbos to sell body armour
the generals are generalising their genre
and playing with our genitals yikes
Sky flattens us all
with ludic clouds
beware the iron bollock descending