Rhizome Up! (Early Draft)

Give me life or something less explicit, as the receipt of my boring considerations

April 26 is a day of little relevance, posting idly on the internet and floating

between transit or transom, trying to maintain a fresh status in the queue of 

extemporaneous age (what does that even mean?) 

Pop psychology! (The pain)


Illiterate (transposed) on a bed of dying critics (capitalism's nightmare 

is just an invitation to create garbage (creating a world of carbon copies)

What would Baudelaire or Baudrillard think? Build a decadent Disneyland 

for your fucked up imaginings. 


Rhizomes from another mother, as Deleuze and Guattari found out soon enough

(These roots go deep, back to radical and conventional thinking) Buried in the soil

mossing yet another stone that refuses to gather momentum. Yet it remains

the same. The damn song remains the same. Take that Zeppelin. 


Take that Postmodernism. (Are you a capitalized thought?) (Are you a capsized thought?)


Take that French philosophy. You are as useful as capitalism in the new modern

age, where presidents are Hollywood textile, smattered dreams of a tech bro

world, a new cornucopia of failure that resembles the real world. 


Take that anachronism. It's time to reconsider the stoics or throw the whole damn project in the trash. 


An extended feedback loop in a minor key screams from the cover song queens. Take cover!

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