digitalism

first, not the song of pogo.

everyone in this room is on some sort of device. the combinations are as follows... ipod cell, chips cell, irish cream cell, laptop cell. no one is without their phone. returns from france, the air smells like strawberry and herbs, a camera has appeared and i'm eating nacho cheese doritos.

they are like pizza gods in my hands. i am wearing a foot tshirt. i never went to foot. i went to fpc instead. and slept all the time in my sleeping bag while felix introduced my back. mother made me break the fences in halves upon the flat of knee. 4 x 6 s everywhere in the dirt with my tomato plants. those were ghosts by then...

and now more appear. and paper burns.