ladies and gentlemen: game on moles

ladies and gentlemen: game on moles
(for tomas ford and big brother)

destroy two hundred and twenty years of culture tonight she said
to the screen, or to me in that 4AM light.
this bakery, this bread of neo-reason and abstract contraception
a new world order of neon-plastic great grey goo

tearin at the guts of a wolfmother moment
a post post post post post-modern movement

i'm a 6 string clarity fetish - an all-star mainframe dissident program
my sedition of affection / a stencilled face examining the traffic;
de-constructing the brilliant cartoon fumes
of a cyclic, primary real-estate boom.

eating from the plate of 2000 yrs of culture
if i were a carpenter i'd surely like to fault ya
squeeze my head like a dick-slid in the system
get in line got a problem better list em

and we all heave wet, like automatic britney tits;
the sweat and glare of a pro-netball fantasy.
you're the G.D. and i'm the G.A.
and we flit n prance in a chemical infliction;
bruised and broody; brewing a black black eye
a bastard broken tooth - an inspirational public electrocution.

16 layers of a post modern moment
tearing at the root of a wolfmother movement
eating from the plate of 2000 yrs of culture
if i were a teacher i'd surely like to fault ya
squeeze my head like a dick slid in the system
get in line got a problem better list em... you better list em
it makes me wonder sometimes
how i keep from going under uh huh huh

and as the spike-driven fluro and spandex nanoculture shouts:
"GNUs not Unix. GNUs not Unix. GNUs not Unix,"
a hundred billion times a second.
we fought valiant battles at the coal-face of narrative,
the TV wars; the bloody-headed peace; a crime scene nipple.
a piece o you a piece o me, she said so fast, another packet please.
please: and this poem is not about your mother, mother-fucker. is it?

is it...? and so we pack death to the boot of a hydrogen economy,
a nuclear insanity - the peak oil franchise a country singers paradise
this burning holy ring of fire; do you know the way to San Hose?
"NO." but i still call Australia homophobic, xenophobic
a dead school cultural wasteland kissing your muffin-topped waistband

26 layers of a post modern moment
tearing at the guts of a wolfmother movement
eating from the plate of 2000 yrs of culture
if i were a carpenter i'd surely like to fault ya
squeeze my head like a dick slid in the system
get in line got a problem better list em... you better list em
it makes me wonder sometimes how i keep from going under uh huh huh

if i weren't an anarchist i'd surely love to shootya.
a clear-felled forest in a super computer.
if i were jesus, i'd rise n grind n swoop from the rock a broken mountain;
a specimen of code, yearning, a cluster of lawyers pointing the bone
at a billion fatal greed breeders.

and i'm SMSing god till the credit runs dry,
flicking yr tender foreskin as if it were the sky,
or a terminal superlative; a radical racist nation laxative

so oh say
can you keep up
with the random channelling, the frantic hammering.

SALE SALE SALE
a convict culture five for a dollar - a culture convict a dollar for five,
cheaper than heroin, faster than ice, slower than GHB; or underwater K;
or crack-pipe rush-job sex-jam humility.

lying thru the perfect yellow haze of an ecstasy epiphany
so so so so 90s / so so so so 80s
so so so so 70s/60s/50s
and there we are now entertain us, a box to masturbate us

girt by sea to shining fucking sea.

quickly quickly quickly
a post-post post-post post- modern moment

26 layers of a post modern moment
tearing at the guts of a wolfmother moment
eating from the plate of 2000 yrs of culture
if i were a carpenter i'd surely like to fault ya
squeeze my head like a dick slid in the system
get in line got a problem better list em... you better list em
it makes me wonder sometimes
how i keep from going under uh huh huh

------------------------
allan boyd - performed May 2006 @ the Bakery Perth
antipoet.blogspot.com