Interactive philosophy of history—I mean what
You can’t argue with a certain type of mind
you can click like on this a hundred times though, like like like like like, each time from a
different account
You know, just to support
My shit makes Homer sound like a five year old
bro let’s fucking go; lfg
Good luck finding your own voice after reading this
I am like if the best tweeters ever actually produced art, instead of stupid useless tweets
This shit is not even poetry, it’s just talking shit in the form of a poem
An invisible poem
Maybe you can be the first one to declare it that:
not even poetry
Maybe the whole world will reorganize around this
I am pissed because I lost pretty much all my hair,
but once I get my hair back; in a pill or something; then you boys are cooked
COOKED
Then you girls are done
I am PISSED because I’ve never been asked to read at a reading—except for once thx to my
friend Biz who got me on one.
But as soon as I get on these readings—it’s a wrap!
Because that’s just what happens when you’re with the time it’s called pushing the present but
also pulling the future back to where I stand now to where we remain for this played moment
until the past collapses in on us too the past crushing us all
Each point touching us completely
each node smothering the next
every video we watch informing us, or show drowning us in a fiction with no cunctation, keeping
us from being staid and unoriginal; the life pulled into me, the image of me in front of me, the
human brains they’re growing in glass jars; which will serve me
Which will serve me you he she
Which will get reinstated as something new to worship. Blood in every direction,
People freaking out for no reason and then breaking down
Taylor Napolsky’s work has appeared in Hobart Pulp, Dream Boy Book Club, Maudlin House, Misery Tourism, Do Not Submit, and Charm School. He serves as an editor at Bizarre Publishing House.