Aesthetes, entertainers, radicals, liberals, stooges, or liars. Everyone remains filthy rich and free to do whatever they want. A congenital appetite for cigarettes in bed. A manipulative sabotage of a radical and dangerous black politics. The most genuinely transgressive new poem. Cosmetic humanization for ethical legitimation and optical differentiation. Stuff, all kinds of stuff, delivered fast and at low cost. I'd rather not grip a private image joystick. I thought to myself: this is a population control tactic. Je ne suis pas un QR code. You can unlock that mentality. Shake off the democracy fixation. At the end of his day he gets to say a final prayer and cuddle with Mike Pence. I need help, he says, understanding the Problems of Mass Incarnation. Welcome to Month Eighteen.

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