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Gears

from is an egg by Wallace

/

lyrics

A buzz and a beep
interrupting my sleep.
Familiar whirling.
Familiar vibrating
Scraping at my teeth—so fuzzy!

A flip of the switch
to get my fix.
Familiar caffeine.
Familiar nicotine.
Shoveling down
your ice box to your heat box to your gut.

Warmer.
Turn it up.
This blanket of mine isn’t electric enough.

Colder.
Turn it up.
This air around me isn’t conditioned enough.

Unlike my brain,
conditioned to reach for the slightest buzz, beep, or ring.
Anxiety sets in when I almost
break my things.

Machine in the routine.
Machine in the routine.

Routine.
Machine.
Routine.

Walking.
Automate.
The best new shoes will step me
from place to place.

I’ll digitize my essence.
Silicon fingers and copper strings.
Send out the tin man
for my experiencing

self.
Automate.
That old food will be pre-chewed
and lectures, a pill to take.

Machine in the routine.
Machine in the routine.

A buzz and a beep
infecting the air.

credits

from is an egg, released June 25, 2016

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Wallace San Jose, California

A couple a kids outta San Jose tryna make something a little strange.

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