Saturday, November 21, 2020

Then He Asks for the Special Lotion

I'm wrung, Trump (absolutely yes) (als0 2wo: in his own martyrmind His 2024 Restoration) and Crackers and Biden and Motherfucking Democrats-wise (I.H.M.D.), that last link...

Algorithmicists, deployed to harvest data so shitlords can develop best training practices for rubes like us, have vast new data sets on election voter behavior under constant poke and prod and shock and plague to sift like whales suck brit, Chapter 58, we each have our own bible

SeatSix could corpshorthand for you the former, thank you, I analog laughed out loud for the first time since the last time, just wait for the next generation of psyops 

Bought three just dropped albums on Bandcamp *last* Bandcamp Friday, now that I have a mortgage on land in Michigan I self-impose a Bandcamp quarantine on myself for sixteen more minutes, this new William Basinski


 

 

 

 

 

EVERYBODY WHO IS DEAD

Frank Stanford

When a man knows another man
Is looking for him
He doesn’t hide.

He doesn’t wait
To spend another night
With his wife
Or put his children to sleep.

He puts on a clean shirt and a dark suit
And goes to the barber shop
To let another man shave him.

He shuts his eyes
Remembers himself as a boy
Lying naked on a rock by the water.

Then he asks for the special lotion.
The old men line up by the chair
And the barber pours a little
In each of their hands.

2 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. I knew it and remembered it instantly because I'm stupid for Stanford, but credit due for reminding me to Rabih Alameddine yesterday on twooter https://twitter.com/rabihalameddine/status/1329934853958037504

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