By internal logic
out of books
into the ruts
of unfruitful meditation
We wait for radiant heat
for ink to dry, for uncoolant
for the initial corrupt
It is time for sad scholars
to make a pile of cash
for the mock elite
for rigorous quaking fist
for unreliable sump
time for sunsets & expertise
Let’s send the thief
pwned intensity
all click & drag
spider pants & porn
the problem with masses
robots in service of song
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