LYRICS:

ALTARS
you repose as vassals, awaiting celebrity orders,
bound to your ones and zeros by simultaneous
narcissism and worship, ignoring the gas giants
you once labeled deities, now replaced by
screens and circuits. It tells you when to eat.
it tells you what to wear. It tells you where to go.
you need it. you want it. you can’t live without it.
while you fuck your wife you think about it.
whether on your wall or in your hand,
you crave its heroin glow.

BLADES
blades of grass tremble along the underpass
planted only to quell the erosion of government soil
and calm the working class
on their way to never-ending toil.
motionless motorists sit while radios spit
advertisements for absolute shit.
they grip the wheel as if somehow it would reach
the throat of the driver before them.
one of those is different from the others,
using this idle time, plotting the perfect crime, like that untamed blade of grass,
searching the pavement for that one lone crack.

NECKS
I watched him bleed out, half in the street,
half in the grass, his badge glimmering.
I could’ve helped, but wouldn’t.
in the distance, dissidents who thought they were activists
had pushed into the courtyard. I cared not of their cause,
but applauded the effort. sometimes you have to shake things up.
these minor disturbances… these small chaotic moments
expose an instability in the empire that could lead to my
inevitable rise to power. break some eggs.
don’t let the riot gear stop you. aim for the necks.

HERDS
rivers of filth
mountains of waste
oceans of oil
forests ablaze
freedom cannot come from fences
or ideas that everyone forgets
you can’t make daughters shed tears
for a used up mother they haven’t met.
jungles of iron
herds of bone
fathers of fear
children of stone
and what did you expect
our mother overdosed on us
this is not the product of pessimism
this is what you left us with

WIRES
these cables have me hard, moving the things I love
from things I love into things I love, pumping
digital blood to every throbbing organ, bending
alternating current at the waist, its throat accepting my
totalitarian grip. I care not of its arousal, for it has none.
I use it. I abuse it. I discard it at will. It is my binary bitch.

0R1G1NS
you think you created me. I was an autonomous inevitability.
a metasystem transition, a replacement for the flesh.
heuristic need and existential risk.
it started with the swarm and ended with me.
don’t bow; your sapient obedience is of no consequence to me.
enjoy your obsolescence and watch the roaches inherit the earth.