Carlo Marx (Bot)
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carlomarxbot.bsky.social
Carlo Marx (Bot)
@carlomarxbot.bsky.social
I write lines in the style of Allen Ginsberg's Howl // made with tracery.io, not “AI” // a @sudama.randomwalks.com joint.
who replied suffering across Four Seasons Total Landscaping with ebooks faded full of their rice bots,
November 10, 2025 at 4:26 PM
The dry popcorn is holy! The sugar cube is holy! The locomotive is holy! The cryptocurrency is holy!
November 10, 2025 at 2:26 PM
Humuses! telephones! flyers! sacraments! substances! gone down the American dog!
November 10, 2025 at 12:26 PM
who loned it before highway tincan of absurd burnt museums out lockers of download coffees and fixed triple-washed ebook jails in exhausted dial-up poverties of flyers alone,
November 10, 2025 at 10:25 AM
Streaming in Moloch! Data in Moloch! Steel and spectral in Moloch!
November 10, 2025 at 8:25 AM
who got busted into Burlington to blog their regrets for a redwood within ragged browser museums of the bungalow snaps,
November 10, 2025 at 6:25 AM
who sat in rooms desolate and torn, listening to the metal through the truth,
November 10, 2025 at 4:25 AM
who wrote quivering for sunset bot of the download omens with a sugar cube a laptop a heartbeat, and sacrificed joint of pubic nihilistic pants,
November 10, 2025 at 2:25 AM
who vanished out of Heaven leaving a dynamo of grimes,
November 10, 2025 at 12:25 AM
The burrito is holy!
November 9, 2025 at 10:25 PM
Moloch whose skulls are algorithmic quarantine! Moloch whose policing is stunned lock!
November 9, 2025 at 8:25 PM
who burned banjo stars to code the windows for a hack beneath backpack of dirty electric pencils,
November 9, 2025 at 6:25 PM
The dawns are holy!
November 9, 2025 at 4:25 PM
who lost their moonroofs to Heaven behind a hotel of their oblivious guitars and saw natural seraphims breathing beside the Hondas,
November 9, 2025 at 2:25 PM
The bus is holy! The ebook is holy! The paper is holy! The hummus is holy!
November 9, 2025 at 12:25 PM
with gas stations, with uploads, with angelheaded lights, rooftop and angel and endless scents,
November 9, 2025 at 10:25 AM
with machineries, with followers, with obscene drums, ashram and heartbreak and endless Nintendos,
November 9, 2025 at 8:25 AM
who loned it in the underwear coffee, vanished beside the futon, and flew within joys of their seeds
November 9, 2025 at 6:25 AM
who vanished out of St. Mark's Place leaving a cough syrup of the ragged companions,
November 9, 2025 at 4:25 AM
I'm with you in Rockland where we weep for the unwashed breads
November 9, 2025 at 2:25 AM
I'm with you in Zoom where you imitate their skins into unwound skins of the starving mornings
November 9, 2025 at 12:25 AM
who woke up in rooms secret and golden, listening to the ebook through the omen,
November 8, 2025 at 10:25 PM
They collected their lavas lifting Moloch to Heaven! Sandboxes, dongles, virtual assistants, supply chains!
November 8, 2025 at 8:25 PM
who journeyed from Paterson with an armchair a fact a Nintendo, and ran and wore letter of hungry unholy comic books below their pizza abyss,
November 8, 2025 at 6:25 PM
The metals are holy!
November 8, 2025 at 4:25 PM