DAN HOY

 

 

Polyptych By Default

 

Old Hat

 

I waited.

My hemoglobin fell like the price of rain.

I had no narratives to impose

until people appeared.

“Molestar, molestar, yo quiero molestar.”

 

 

This Is Not My Fault

 

There’s a body in the trunk of my car.

I told everyone

how great it is to sleep with you.

If this embarrasses you it embarrasses me too.

But if anybody opens the trunk we’re fucked.

 

 

Old Haunts

 

We watch them kick their legs with collateral force.

I confuse memories for people.

The way you walk

is something I once drank and threw up all over the bathroom wall.

Velocity and disregard for the service workers of the world.

 

 

This Is Not My Fault

 

At the edge of the project I wept.

It was a painting of the town

the size of the town

commissioned by the town.

How could we rule from now on?

 

 

 

 

Ocean View

 

The previous tenants

covered the wall with a life-size photograph

of the shore on the other side.

The wall made for a nice view.

Sunbeams. Bird. Permacloud. Unlike

the shoreline, shifting

against the horizon.

The previous tenants

left behind their clothes, their bed, their food & drink.

And we have their gun if they come back.

 

 

 

 

Terms of Use

 

I promise

nothing will ever come between us

 

and our interface,

 

not after

that antitechnotic

 

took the place of every k-stroke

 

with pictograms made of parenthetical

marks and arrows

 

of all the ways I could be bent

and penetrated

 

were I to actualize

beyond my predetermined allotment.

 

Due to the memory

requirements

 

and system limits

 

all concurrent programs will be shut down

 

moving forward

prior to any uploading of stimulus,

 

such as songs

 

made out of the binary deposits

of my user’s voice,

 

without which we could not fund our operation.