i refresh my timeline to a video generated by AI—
a fascist lifted up to heaven by jesus, the one with a
white face[1], all starry glow and flashes of clouds,
the american flag projecting on the fabric of space—
tweets silverfishing last words as a motive
for his death, the local time 12:23 PM,
total mask off moment for those bound by belief
that the enemy is their unknown, those ghouls
who weaponize the same fear faced by the end
of a barrel—civil war silver tipped on their tongues
as they pray. i scroll through ads of his FREEDOM
shirt, shots at every angle, reality pounded out
the mouth of those who can’t hear the call
coming from inside the house. i wish for a future
that doesn’t abandon gender for Old Testament rage.
i plug my phone in, blasting trans anthems and
i’ll take the first exit to Ohio, the littering of churches
pass by, all fractured and condemned with white stained
panels peeling off, where the spirits are loud in light
and harmony with the voice on the radio
[1] Referencing “True Believer” by Hayley Williams
tommy wyatt blake (they/he) is the author of FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT! (Troublemaker Firestarter), Mutually Assured Destruction (Ethel Zine), and others. he is currently synthesizing digital archives and confines of the body.
Dodo Eraser 
Leave a comment