The Internet

S. Kilbey

Appears On:

The Internet

Narration (unofficial)

[rev. Nov. 4, 2021]

the internet is a naked woman with a tiger's head on fire
standing in a clearing in the jungle
she rubs her tummy waiting for you to arrive
amazon jungle, lemurian jungle, indian jungle
you are a vine, you are a creeper
you're a poisonous flower swallowing wasps
the parrots scream in the canopy
the wise old snakes writhe in the lair
dreaming of a hundred american women who are all saying
"oh yeah baby, gimme everything you got"
the internet is a random redistributer
filling your screen with @ @ @ @ @ @ @'s
and stories in spanish about the insatiable cruelty of hombres
and some little cheeker all alone in the jingling desert winds
and somebody posted it already
and i got a burn
i got a burn off my friend jimmy fire
and the stuff in the pipe bubbled
and marilyn inhales deep
and bobby and john have both had her
and some brutal ape is knocking at her back door
while insignificantly we smuggle albert einstein into the future
and the inevitable black cars cruise up the street and pick us up
and fly us away to some virtual switzerland
and i wonder then, can william tell?
and i sit here punching away on these symbols
somehow someone somewhere interprets all this
and it's catalogued according to its nature
and then i get a burn in berne
the internet soothes me
it coddles me with its curdled milk
and whacks me around the head side with its slow connection
in this very room right now everything battles it out with everything
at the very end of time
before the last second is spent and done
diamonds rub against diamonds
tungsten-fingered machine gives you a good seeing to
saucy milfs predict the weather in houston
and correct your b-grade spelling
i google myself
uh-uh uh-uh
oh that feels good
ooh, fucking google me child
see my pages flow out and out and out
every time someone mentions me i grow another 20 pages
i wax massive on hearsay
yeah, i love all this war and mayhem on here
korea or crimea or whatever war you like
hannibal crosses the alps and blows all the ether ports
i got hannibal's recipe for poached pears
i got hannibal visiting oj in jail
i got hannibal's tips for the big game saturday
i got hannibal pushing kurt under a train
i got hannibal explaining the phat bass sounds on painkiller
i got hannibal on facebook talking about child sacrifice
i got hannibal's virtual tour of italy by elephant
i got hannibal kissing kitten natividad's sweet ass
i got hannibal's blog written in tyrus yesterday
i got hannibal's souvenir bag with the neat daggers
i got hannibal and kenny rogers trading eye-lift tips
i got hannibal jamming with sonic bloom and black azalea
i got hannibal barca's latest lyrics, songs, ideas, pictures, updates, fan clubs
i got hannibal barca's only interview before sardinia
i got hannibal barca's merch tips, guides, specials, and f a q s's
i go to delphi to connect to the internet
i ask the sibyl, why no gmail for my little laptop trash?
why no check from fucking atv?
how long they gonna gamble my dough on the short-term market i ask her
can you book me a cab for friday night?
and can you tell me how many people read my diary?
and send a message to michael
a message to michael
and gabriel to my left
and uriel to my right
and i do the hokey-cokey and i swing it all about
and the cops bowl up to internet cafe
and shoot protesters in cyber-space
and opus dei log on in their secretive cloisters
and donald trump checks some figures in his tower
and karen black deletes a comment from her fan book
and julie meadows invites you to come on down
and everybody typing
and everybody reading
and everybody posting
and everybody up and downloading
hit my payboy
hit my payboy
payboy@payboy.dollars
try a free sample, here it is
kilbey kilbey blah blah blah
hey, i still got the cherry pop in my system
i still got all the sweet green icing flowing down
hey, i still got the vodka and berry v
i still got the t2 pills and the memory of lust
i still imagine but i prefer imagine.com.or
i bought my new teeth on the internet
i found my eyes
and i remembered i'd left my ego
listen to that orchestra
i played all them instruments, virtually
yeah, i smash up trombones and thigh bones and saxophones and iphones
and i bounce a million fiddles into one intro
and i combine no cal drones with so cal blippies
and i summon up the white noise of a million mazda car radios
and i tune in the bitter lemons
and i tune in iron pig
and i tune in the fairy lantini boppers
and i tune in the limit five
and i tune in carl loss [5:19] and the playboys
and i tune in baby grande
and there's stevie in his dog collar and singlet
all skinny and stupid
thrashing away in some queanbeyan garage
and he sing "you stab in the dark, don't stab me in the back"
and he sing "i call you zephyr 'cause you blow"
and he sing "how come you never do the jet fin rock"
and he sing "hey synthetic equivalent"
and he sing "the world below him trembled and cried out in its awe,
the rivers turned to silver, the silver turned to war"
and he sing some enchanted evening you will stranger meet her
and bring on the dancing internets
and internet fields forever
and sgt. peppers internet club band
and withinyou-withoutyou.com
and the internet is a naked woman with a tiger's head on fire
but scarlett says "no, it's a white kitty cat"