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O.D. on VaporTech™

I.

It has no business being this sunny out

[Statues of Valhalla + Windows '98]


The sky is one conglomerated daydream
a ceiling stuck with countless yellow pencils
everyone inside the office park is pleasantly
solemn - relieved to not have to picnic


SCIENTIST: Things break down when a sense of scale is introduced.



-weather patterns on bald mountains-



[Megatron, so small when a gun]



II.

“Are you the kind of person who is reminded of things
when encountering other things?”


[The jungle is the
city of nature…]


“Where were you when Hysteria hit shelves?
In that brief window of time when things were real
and true
and had a viscous sense of meaning?”


-the singer’s voice: a hospital blanket-


Is there a way to structure everything, so that everything is then structured?

So that everything is discrete?


[ARMAGEDDON IT]


If so, then where is the ritual,

the succotash ritual1?


III.

My brain fog proliferates
[slash] is manifest as nostalgia.

Like neon goo gas in my periaqueductal grey:


[TRANSFORMERS THEME SONG]


Toto and Rygar
still haunt my shower dreams


[Brain Television2: On]


-the sound of calculation-


Is it true?


Are they3 advertising Death?


IV.


I’ve combed this great earth in search of concrete-ness.

The Division bell is sounded.

BILLBOARD: Wrap yourself in sugar fantasies, feast on old
Christmas’s.


[Awash in stale moonglow]



The vacant Throne of Meaning pulsates.

Its emptiness a gash.



- far be it from me to care,

past the sounding of the bell...




...and


(after each carillon knell),


a strange and different morning.




{ANNOTATIONS}



1It happens on the first day of the year

2Visualized as/sounding like Max Headroom

3The Advertisers.