Many Robots

[Gazette]

here comes the mist, black and wet
tried to tackle death, so passive, passion-less
sun, moon, earth - some oedipian affair
they came with the smoke, but he's leaving with air
chunky chromatics, direct light, a Christmas schematic
clean and erratic, fingernails hidden, deep in the fabric
reprehensible, no, just old

introduce your rockstar here

i took the 12-15 to Bristol Parkaway

there were many, many robots
i said I'd down, resist the stars to pace
there were many, many robots

i saw him in red denim, dried-milk itchiness
little rivulets of little-ness
skin skates over ribs, bruises balloon
tears attend, of course, traffic loses its tune
her teeth stink, should have deleted her skull
so peaceful and full, like sheep, asleep in their wool
pubic, static, plastic and rhythmical
digit by bitten digit, into the Valley of Hinnom go

i counted rosy bricks to seven, six
there were many, many robots
in the lintels there, were set the petroglyphs
and many, many robots

i saw him in the strangle-steps, cotton jam and cheese
eyes like daiquiris, attacking with asthmatic knees
the sky a sort of distance, natural, ankle-rawness
black, enormous, everything intact but formless
her throat a cut of wrinkled clay
see this heap of bleating tits and hate?
she's a robot