It is not so necessary that life go on
“Hunger!” you may say will save us
But hunger, dear, ends us just the same as it begets
To bring home honey of the spiritual sort
That Desire that ticks our clock
Starving ascetic drones of techno-static love
soma and coma rhyme for reason
A new season, “ecstasy!”
An alcoholic perfectly groomed but not a groom proper to be found;
a bride instead, of the state.
Digital honey for the weary and thirst all the more for sugar
Refined enriched commodified, co-morbid
It is not necessary that this persist
The man inside, homunculus man and ideator
He has been hypnotized.
And he likes it.
Homo techné now
Homo techné again
Techné now
Techné forever
It was once necessary that life go on
But gods too decompose, a honey bee’s tombstone
Here lies the madman, death at his own tool-wielding nature:
Man, the Mano, the hand, the killer, the plier of technique, the suicide, the trigger fingered fiend
Let it be inscribed if Technique himself cares, or can, to commensurate:
“It was once necessary that life go on.”