[latecapitalismskeletonobservesrealitymelt.gif] 

it possesses nothing smooth to grip
no movement you can follow

the bones are washed in the severe light
of the setting economic system

reaches out and the fern frond becomes
so much shitty glass

nothing to reflect on here
the ground is thirsty for

bones so you give it bones
and back to start

[y0ga on th internet]

    my partner lays out their yoga mat        / running it over the carpet like

fake lawn                       when th youtuber Adrien t     asks  us      y we’re

here?               we’re in our                own house                 th fuk                     /

she gestures to the ground            she speaks of breathing in     and out           

there are all sorts of clicking         and grinding noises              like

hard-drive straining         in my body              I am reminded of a poem    

by Hana Pera Aoake              in which they state            “I don’t even want

to be Pākehā or Māori                     anymore. I just want to be downloaded

on to a portable disk.”      indigiqueer emphasis on the digital     monster

lurking in my brain               when will I evolve                      downward

dogging me to              enlightenment               my hands pressed hard into

the carpet              what food has detonated         into          crumbs       

here                what energy uncirculated is meal for            microscopic

beasts here            what is it we          are         doing        here  /   

Adrien  asks for us to push              the energy out past         our

fingertips            do I        imagine a ghost         here    /         my identity

Trojan-horsed      into my body         hole  sale           & I come back

to             th fuk  is going on             here

Essa May Ranapiri

essa may ranapiri (they/etcetcetc) Tainui takatāpui / horny-jail abolitionist / commie-poet / angry wahine screaming landbacklandbacklandbacklandbacklandbackLANDBACK