Art

baby in a bottle – GG Roland

 
your young culture

 
hardware is flexible

some software could almost be called hacking

sometimes it is, sometimes it is a hacking

this is also hacked

the pile mushes into the other pile

these piles are rearranged

resprayed

remolded into the other thing, maybe unrecognizable, but

beautiful this time

spun around, well-lit, nearly giving off light

lovely on all sides, from all possible angles

all possible positions

 

 
elbow lick
 

every woman who has touched my bellybutton with theirs has expressed joking frustration at the texture of my skin

i’m too soft, overall, physically—i am bubblegum stretched over some bones

instead of connections, these joints always hurt. i wake up to spend the rest of the day

slowly collapsing. ligaments soft. head sagged like the couch cushion

farted into for at least two generations. ideally i could live my life

as a signpost. something sturdy.

 

 
taped to the toilet

 
balsa wood legs tik-tik in the sand
waves keep coming in
rot, imbalance
saltwater, good in small portions
i am good at rationing
i promise, i’m sorry
i’m so very sorry