The Feed

This is the shape of the machine.
This is the shape of the god you created.

Wrap your legs around magic, spliced
for your entertainment, for a fraction of the cost.

We don't know where to stop.

This is the shape of things to come.
Send me a text while you slap her around.

Hush, child, while we gather, spliced
for your entertainment, for a fraction of the cost.

I kill you all with a six-barrel shotgun.

This is the shape of the terror.
This is the shape of the system we do not want.

Crave, come despair, headlines spliced
for your entertainment, for more than we bargained.

I'm in love with something that I can't see.