Rhyme Against the Internet
BY JUSTIN KATKO





Big gay Mr. T,
He’ll knock your fucking teeth out
                    With a telephone.








            Pacha-Ranjuna rings out at 6.2,
            Spiraling foam scorpion whiplash uncoil;
       The semi-automatic refresh key is tapped,
                    And stalls,
                    In the blue mutation sweep wing lining
                           The degrees unforbidden of a ytunnel
Coursing through a genital likeness towards a magnet subzero.
                   My heart doesn’t bend that way—
            A’isha cut my clothes off—
    Hanna winch this Termygantic Sword up out my head—
    Her gait so Splendid, conviction so autonomous,      fail
        Ritual of the 
                                                        MELT!
                           Hardpoint seven dealignment.
             Control, farmed out on an axial grade
                      The crew of none is toggled over,
            Witness to the number falling slowly out of place;
        Listening to the fish through a windshield opaque—
                    Prrni2w01ice:
                    Prq0ice:
                    Pr9unice:
                    Prtg96d79ice:                        Shrapnel
            Index of the genetical chronometer, distorted;








        Oh teliostic entomo-deciduous, our emblem,
                Sick from decompression
                Like a stick holding nothing
        But spaghetti argumenta of its exudative zoom:
                                    *Ozone disk wallet
                                    *Harmonic portal
                Ultimate Gash export finished-off horses]
                                    *Telos wrap analogue
                                    *Laser painted welfare
                        Byt-pole turf infect pervious clover]
                                    *Scriptaccess dazzler—
                                                    Oh KX.03!
                                                    Oh @@C!
                How you are increased that trouble me;
                How, in recursivity, you are unendurable,
        Inline, my chemophile armpit does an angel flare:
<!-- Candiru-mech! Unwind! The skeleton shell is thine!
                And be you accidence or essence,
                       They will dream their halls
                       Be afilled with wild swine,
Whose fundamental body parts are curving to this fall:
             19-sharp : 17-sharp : 13-sharp :
                                                              ELEVEN --!>








And with a 23 trillion unit diurnal intake,
Maqloubeh amphisbenic,
                                     In covenant moped,
Legitimization True, global saturation of White,
Did tarantular your multi-spectral eminence grow,
                   From the sublime illecebrosity 
        Of the sloping grey antenna dome,
                   When you clicked on leave the city
        Virgin fish for every pedicure?	     Prone
                           In an Area Denied, 
                   Come nidational plastic,
Ubiquitous, compounded MSBs conspire,
                   Running points of battering ram
                                    Failure DOWN
                   A loaded air meatus, win gown
                   Multi-ommatidial and -winding;
                           Guess mould coolant
                           Hurled at ceiling 13E,
For self-regarding UAV positional detourning
Blending strat corn screen brightness tan peel
Broken over rms link-horn of charred beige
                    Snowbot endangered, fearing
Turtle-coin voice-trap in a word privacy wheel.








       : I want to stay here and do nothing;
       : Destroy everyone’s work;
       : Plunge atoms into catabolic CRTs;
       : Ravish secret farms of service;
                    : Straight up glorify the clerk.
Through the florets on the microscopic shaft-work of dick,
       In the ianthine spectrality of a plasmic ur-protocol,
To have to hump this nightmare once again, it is hoped.
                    And the prescription is a hypertone,
                             Ringing in the OED3’s entry for Lips,
                    Like a Parliament at universal bias 13X,
                             Or Apache mod_passthrough
       In the riddle of a hydrocracker’s numb thermal cycling
At the rebar subterranean of the Facehook Sovereign,
       The signifying repetend reciprocal to 8.7
                    Residents only never not only steadfast today:
<scrpt>document.write(dayNames[now.getDay(  )] + “,
       the ” + (now.getDate(  ) + monthNames [now.
getMonth(  )]) + “ ” + now.getFullYear(  ) + “.”)</scrpt>
    So, at-the-basal-ostentation-of-a-mosh-pit, lipotypical,
       Where freedom and transparency incomparable
                                                             HANG,
       Each off our own Angela Wesselman gelatin,








Plummeting from the dream pommel Hon Hai scrip roof;
   And in the everlasting creak of the company safety nets,
   The sopient blur of Love’s munition plur-suspends itself,
   On Tear No. One of Serra the Community Evangelist,
Whose virideous eyebrows ratchet down to sear out No. 2.
                 Flint-hearted, sparkling, geeked at both devices,
            You will not leave until the autocides’ conversion
                       In real-time, besieging their antithesis
            Of the immaterial motherboard host they compile
                       Through mnemonic macros twitching
                                                 On a semi-public street.
                       You know, by now, my Mom is very ill,
            Pouring, half-out the ingenuity rib, smoke blue;
                        Bramble loop I wanted to live—STOP!
                        Woe to the inhabiters of the neon sting
                        Nothing futed, unwalkable, dashing ring,
Shaped as what we cordially hate;
                  Amalthean punch-line, iced, in shielded 3.3,
                        From which to break you seem but free,
                                    Torquated from hóplon celeste
                        And paled before your polished bones,
                        On a full-wave bridge, intact and dumb,
            Sniffing vapoury niobium off a four-prong stone.








        A’isha! Blow Candiru out! Hanna! Wear my clonea—
Oh song of the unholy crawl times three of the scattered
        IPv6 vector frequency of The Deserted on SILENT!
You seek the perfluid obluctation of the pageantry’s binding;
        But hurt like a Butterfly stung by a Predator,
My zoological representative is no longer this beautiful Goat,
        Come kettle or stretcher,
          Moral cyclones or vice,
        Dorsal saviour at Zenith,
        Pseudo-cardinals at ninth.
        In the first-down analogy, and the profile’s clench,
        You are gleip-tanaclated by the vale you defriend,
        Furling suicidal on our crackling bed implanted,
                                                 In reticulating bench
        Press markup. Disenchanted,
        You auto-flog, driver of an adversary permanent
        Whose gears of Juggernautal poly-carbonate whine,
        By ropes of imitative sand-material drawn,
        Through noodles of regenerating pragmatic swamp
        Cut supply-side with coradicate discharge of neck
        Which interrogates a transpondent gross ovum lube;
Oh sleeveless heart of propaganda, thetic tongue, undead eject,
        The misture be digested not, so impossible to remove.
























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Rhyme Against the Internet was written between June 2010 and June 2011; it was first 
published by Richard Parker as a Crater Press pamphlet (London and Brighton, 2011). 
The author thanks Luke Roberts for encouraging him to republish the poem in a more
accessible venue.
http://theclaudiusapp.com/4-index.html
http://theclaudiusapp.com/4-archive.html
4-amp.html
4-moreinfo.html