64 Bits to Bug You

I got 64 bits to bug you
At a BASIC level
It's electrical feedback
From ATP. Down to gut instinct. Allow me
An amyloid, filopodial figment or two
And I'll polarise your Calcium
To make your dreams come true.
Entrance to a virtual, personal firmament
Permament, formented in a basement
NBC in Tennesse
That's not heaven, that's a twisted history.
Repeatedly, I self assemble marbles
Like the British Museum do
Pass strips of randomly encrytped bits from Tuttankamen
Aspergillus advujants, just have no taste
I prefer the organic because it cuts down waste
I don't listen too much to this
I guess I just miss new tricks
Because now they bugging me in strings as long as 256.

Went Down West

I went down West, it was desert
Black bellied ravines of spartan stone
Washed clean like storm gullies after rain
A silence at the heart of this plague city
Regents street and Bond
A luminous donkey
A sleeping bag clutching scab fingered soul torn wandering man
And I, that was all
Cavendish, empty, Harley, Portland Place
In Berkley two young Arab girls went giggling
A teenage adventure on empty streets of Empires wealth.

This Tragic perestroika
The whole city was each of ours
My own carriage on the Tube
Two would be lovers could have had the steps of the National
But worried at the garden wall on situations
Two chicken grease fingered teenagers
Had all Trafalgars fountains in isolation
And everywhere on empty thoroughfares
Was the air of mourning.

They steal blocks now
Kidnap your sense of place
In silence and distraction
And where they are felling the old Planes
Our lungs, at Euston, a man said
"I'm just doing my job, I don't know nothing" #Arendt
By the bodies of dead trees. Trees which
If you haven't already heard
May have computational NOD-factor like proteins
In symbiosis at their roots, and by the bodies I replied
"That didn't wash at Nuremberg".

This call may be recorded

This phone call may be recorded
For training and quality purposes
Then again, it might not
It might be recorded and archived
In an airless basement
Where barely a spider survives
Because quality is a relative adjective
Not a standard around here
And this phone call may be
Abandoned.