Will Vincent

 plugged in and boneless

I am in the distortion ray
the pink divide

I am sorry

I just broke the Internet

I was plugging Iago’s first complaint
into the old machines

I wanted to know evil

the hyperlink shaded violet

when the browser froze

and Want died
a half-formed bird in my stomach

it was all tentacle porn

forward-slashed clouds
bracketed moon

when the dead kids on Facebook were finally buried at sea

the horizon gone
behind a million bees


YouTube blasts its final video

a 10 hour clip of a woodpecker
hammering its beak into glass

my flesh gone blue in its light

as spheres ripple

whales sing
rains freeze

my father drools
out of me

his murmurs disjoint from mine

become angular

rhythm slotted out for logic

my father answers the echo
Is it A/V to phono or A/V to mini-phono?

unstacking the reel cans
wants to film the old projections

he will send me the DVD


I fall out of my father

out of the ray
into a pixel sea

the Internet is angry
a titan in its last seize

its jaws open me

I’m force-fed the lust of the first fish with legs

injected with intelligent pus

worms click for openings in my skull

I’ve got it bad and I swell
pieces of me reach and devour


a thousand miles of I

every block in Mountain View

designers prod

avatars blink out

bloggers huddle cold
push each other into my pores

PageRank algorithms and infinitesimal calculus
tattooed across their chests

HTML chains recited raw from the hole’s lip

they circle and grunt

my body
a flesh wave

a serpent

pushing ranges


my father is back from his office
he’s caught the infection too

sprinting over my colossal form
hacking through trunks of hair

bad back and knocked knees revamped

propelled on modded hard-drive fans

chips pour out of his joints

he leaps my streams

my mercurial sweat

my heart splits and multiplies inside me

pieces of heart breed

like sick mice
they sprout arachnid legs

stink like discarded gas

scuttle and cut

my father hunts them
spears the screeching organs

with a sign post torn from the street

he tumbles

lunges and spills
the blood

they stole from me


my father rips me open
with the violent side of a hammer

he digs

swims through me

chokes the last infected heart

I am now called Sag
a god deflated

a wet rag suffocating the land

my jugular a spent river

a burning geyser

an error


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