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P.H. Antom writes that these poems are excerpted from a work in progress
entitled "Tunneling to the
Moon", the first installment in a trilogy
containing "The God Dialectics" and "Vintage of
a Perfect Age". Word architecture stylizes my
subliminal samsara mode, a form of automatic
writing wherein the synapses fire a bit out of
phase with a moralizing vengeance. As far as
writing for a living - you might say I'm working
on my second million, since I gave up on the
first one years ago.
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Technopithicus
Turned on this morning
Switched into day mode
Night mode abort
Initializing the daily function
Buzzing from one subroutine to another
Raming the electronic media
Processing the market culture
Accessing the world for survival
With nanosecond instincts and logic tools
Like a data predator preparing for the hunt
Into virtual jungles of corporate reality
Until preyday.
Superswoop
This morning I ordered a bowl of gama rays
To go, of course
It's all anyone can do for contemporary stress management
To eat on the run, nowadays
One mushroom - hold the acoustics - with legs
Don't repeat this to anyone, though
Because check out personnel get very suspicious
When it comes to any part of the food chain that retaliates
But they're always in denial about repasting the box tops anyway
So who cares if the ingredients make for occasional reading
Especially when honorary PhD's are conferred upon anyone
Just for determining their tactical consequences on unsuspecting consumers
Anyway, I like mine in the ultra confidential portable packages
Stockpiled with plenty of sweet and sour secrecy
That way the matter goes down so much easier
And the light only hurts your eyes for a while.
Teleprison
Lying here trying to digest a thirty-six pound tranquilizer
One that speaks in imagnary tongues
It's gotten to be a 32" vacuous exercise in tolerance
I come home after being lost in my work all day
And try to recover my sanity inside a box of contrasts
I've actually come to believe that we are merely projections
In a world of 2 minute paradigms
Finessed out of the wilderness of unstimulating reality
By virtual missionaries who seek our conversion
From original thought.
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P.H. Antom
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In this trio of post-twentieth century techno-barbs,
Antom shows us the underbelly of angst filtered
through his refracted vision.
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