REPTILIAN

Punctuating the sound with violence. I thought we were smoking weed but when you lit the cherry I-it screamed. You crawled away and dropped it, writhing. The ringing continued for sometime. My heart hurt for the scuttling and the code flickered in the clouds. I made a mental note, totally unfooled. The police were in the long grass watching. If they can’t smell it they can’t fine us, and I’m not being detained. Later, I searched the binary for a Street View of your childhood home. I zoomed in for the details, longing. 2D-you, pissing in the garden. Your hand pushing the thing down, steam into the grass. The ghoul of your dad at the window, white teeth bearing. He’s dead and I killed him cancer with my name. My name had a different flavour then than now. Proto-adolescent. Cherry or Reptilian

The last time I said cat’s cradle no one else remembered the game. It’s been unwritten in this timeline. All the papers are missing. The shift erased it, even in your padlocked diary. Look and you won’t find it. Most shudder off the incongruities but I’m counting. 01100110 01110101 01100011 01101011 01100101 01100100 00100000 01101001 01110100. Their blank eyeballs roll when I’m done looking. But I sea it. There’s a joke and I’m not in it. Energy weapons directed to my laugh so I cough and cry at what it's funny – believe I am inside that one! All because I didn’t buy the Marxist conditioning, even when my mother’s milk was on the payroll. Targeted Individual or supreme gentleman. Pixels form around me sharply on the rooftop at sunset. I used believe in fireflies and fairies but I know the truth now. My family lied. Lied about the master. The city rendering beside me in all its LED light. They no longer care to hide the construction, mocking me. Diamonds cut it into existence. My husband’s face flickers when he passes me my medicine. I can’t breathe for nausea.

The fruit bowl full yesterday now its empty. Things are eating as I arrive. They scuttle in my peripheral vision. Breathe through the flask or they switch the fog that eats your memory. The public will calm down after but I don’t forget it. Constant humming. Microwaves on my spite ear. I’ll teach you how to survive here if they don’t paralyse my hands. The perfect way to stop me writing! Something which could happen. I know it es getting stranger. Your lover recalls your shared life differently. One of you met at Business School and the other on the Docks. Evidential bodyswapping. Check. Biscuits crumbling through your hands. Tail of a cat clock, wagging. Pass the same stop on the train twice. I’ve never seen my neighbours bring a bag of shopping inside. No one has. It’s a glitch THEY prefer us not to notice. But eye sea it all. Total 360. At night things wriggle in my skin. Laid there with tiny wires in the laboratory. I black out, foaming at the mouth.

Come for me you Shanghai screamers

elegant plastic shorelines

white refugees

dogshit splattered Michael Jordans

Left and right brained

like a split screen

Olah

This is how we teach them

Spit running down my face and I love it

This is how we teach the

This is how we teach them to fear what they sacrifice

Circuit board electrical fires

Olah

Call me fried