The Hologram Family Robinson
lives nowhere because they don't exist.
"You're projecting," they sneer at each other,
auto-tuned assholes that they are.
They become peevish.
They become representations of reptiles
dying in a dream sequence involving a tar pit or peat bog.
"Discover us," they plead.
"Split our rock with a hammer, release us, love us."
But they are assholes,
and like love
or last night's dinner,
everything goes right through them.
"Hail, signalman!" they cry, larynxless
like insects in the rotting ear of a dead man.
for "Unhappy Refrain" at Toads. I recycled a comment I left at Paper Tiger for this.