Which Hedge Fund Owns the Sea?

Which Hedge Fund Owns the Sea?

We Are in the Future Now!

I dreamt I was baking an apple pie and in the dream 
I woke up and you said: Your dreams are so good I can 
smell them.

They shot some _____ last night. No one knows how
many _____ died. We are saddened by this senseless loss 
of _____.

When I speak to you sincerely, it may seem like I’m 
talking about mercy. But everyone knows that in 
Chicago “dying” is not the same as “dying.”

What does capitalism have to sell you that you haven’t 
already sold to yourself? (sic!)

I was thinking about the old cliché: the one where the
starving man peels off his skin and eats himself then
gets indigestion because he ate so fast and didn’t drink
enough water.

Whiny journalists always asking questions like: How 
many people died here yesterday? How many corpses did
they burn?

Revolution or brunch? Not as simple as it sounds 

They say it’s okay to enjoy things when the world is 
exploding. I’m not so sure I believe them.

The police state-austerity-surveillance-machines
stopped spying on themselves when they realized the
only step left was to report their own bodies to the
censors.

And the bureaucrats sing: We are in the future now! We 
are in the future now!

I don’t really care for any of the years, decades, or 
centuries. I don’t like states, countries, or nations. 
And I’m not a fan of time, religion, justice, culture, 
literary movements, schools of painting or philosophy, 
“the commons,” “the archives,” semantics, rhetoric, 
politics, the ego, the id, the public self, the private self, 
oratory, syntax, or grammar, among other things.

The history of this road is 		Massacre A then 
Massacre B expansion peace treaty truth reconciliation
resurrection Massacre C then Massacre D rhetorical
guilt legal challenges truth reconciliation hypocrisy
Massacre E then Massacre F. Period.

You can have an inspiring “studio session” in Emily
Dickinson’s bedroom in Amherst for $300 for one
hour, or $500 for two hours. Or two people can rent it
out for $400 for one hour, or $600 for two hours. Food
and drink must be left outside the room. The door will
remain open. Staff will be present at all times.

At Sophie’s Choice: Custom Gifts and More in Niagara
Falls, you can buy a maternity shirt that says “Expecting
our first lil’ Pumpkin.” At Sophie’s Choice Shop, an
online retailer servicing Serbia, Montenegro, Croatia,
Bosnia, and Herzegovina, you can buy makeup and
fake eyelashes. At Boutique Le Choix de Sophie in Alma,
Quebec, you can buy “everything for your wardrobe
from head to toe.” At Sophie’s Choice Clothing, an online
second-hand shop from the uk, you can buy tunics,
strappy dresses, and fashionable outfits for the office.

When he said I was “asleep at the wheel” what I
thought he meant was that I was “sleeping on the side
of the road” which I thought of as “dying on the side of
the road” or even just “sleeping on the side of death.”

Best Practices #1013

She pulls out her passport and the agent says	 your
country no longer exists

We tread lightly over the broken bones so we won’t
cause them to explode or decay

He wants to know the name of this atrocity so he can
classify it among the previous ones

We dig deeper into our faces to find the acceptable
calculations that might alter the course of history (is it
too soon to embellish the dead?)

Time passes 	Nothing changes 	The hours become
worse and worse

There is a militarized frontier in your face and you
cover it with the sixty-four digit code that all the
miners are searching for

We can’t advance until we know the name of this
period of infinite gestation

They need to build a system whose death leads to the
most efficient form of regeneration

We rebuild the means of production and when we run
out of resources we call the toll-free hotline and ask
for a resumption of the oppressive policies that have
destroyed us for so many centuries

I’m so tired I could sleep on a barbed wire fence	 is not a sentence
you want to say in certain contexts

I’m sorry you think my body reminds you of a South
American vortex whose name you can’t pronounce

If the city would explode a bit more politely then we
might be able to attract the sorts of entrepreneurs who
can finance the futurity of our misery

I mean what is the first thing you think of when
you encounter the spiritual transgression of your
body in a tunnel between the absence of time and the
hypercirculation of capital?

There’s a name for this experience	 but I’m not
allowed to mention it

The child barking in the tree signals to his neighbors
that the tourists are coming with their guns again

The game ends when they recolonize the natives and
force them to speak to the wrong god in the wrong
language

The new hemisphere appears on the horizon	 no one
is there to authenticate it

What nation-state controls the sun and the moon? 
Which hedge fund owns this sea?

We are in the future now but time keeps glitching and
the earth keeps quaking backward

You’ve said this before this kidney does not have an 
owner

When the war ends they will refine and perfect all that
they learned by accident

The most effective ways of reducing the population will
become best practices taught at schools throughout the
nation

The system requires the authentication of the sacred
body that will never appear

The disappeared body is sanctified and soon the
tourists will pay to see a non-fungible replication of it

The rehumanization of the population repeats itself
first as parody then as encryption

Did you hear the one about the metaphor that was a
metaphor for a metaphor that exists outside thought
and language?

He wanted to kill some time but instead he killed some
villagers

Tough break

In the future 	    with proper guidance     he’ll surely 
make better decisions

The Greeks and Romans had a name for this

The foot that despises its slipper