digital artists
seek to fulfill the
uncanny valley
where it becomes
impossible to
tell reality
from the pixels

i prefer the more
archaic pursuit
of poetry and the
search for the elusive
uncanny alley
where the filth of
the human existence
permeates the page

diving in the gaps
of a meth head’s smile
to wring honesty
from over plasticized
expressions of joy
carving my name in
the rancid repugnancy
where reality slams
face first into
sheer absurdity and
leaves a fractured
discoloration on
the divinity of beauty

sifting through the
banality of existence
with rubber gloves
so the caustic gore
doesn’t scar these
hands which only
seem to know tribulation
callous and callused
from forced interment
this ugliness which
artfully reflects truth
in cascading lines
twisted into a farcical
parody of a hangman’s knot