Fake Assassinated 

line like this recalls us

to surface: swallowed by

the compositional machine

drenched in civic sweat

dude across the bench

says he's a math person

who wasn't taught right

ok. it was weird to be

fake assassinated by a poet

at a place called bard

it was fake theater and

fake poetry and fake puppetry

and fake video game satire

and nothing – death was

nowhere and nowhere &

the toy rifle shot fast –

maybe that's what the goose

thinks being stuffed & 

petted at the same slime 

i was accused in a letter

disfigured as an email of 

conspiring with trans painters  

to create a new symbolism

really? at least grant me

the fake desire to reinvent

cubism or photorealism

or some other movement 

from the actual fucking

paleolithic century i was

supposedly born during

the unknown is not scary

mr. stranger. imagine

testing truths while pretending

getting a master's degree is

the equivalent of guernica

or being registered in the pose

of ordinary agony. dog dog

dog, why why why it was

amazing to see so many 

people fail to even give the

shrug. but that's cool. the

story's so modular & bonkers

it sounds fake itself on any

kind of repeat. in my auto

biography, which I will

never write, this will all

be outsourced as blame

to deep imagism's stylized

& resonant tribe of cloned

rabbits. you can look it up

as ol' case used to supposedly 

say. i have to do at least

five more things to this

poem: got stymied today

when asked if I felt 100

percent. 100 percent of

what? who cares that it 

makes breezes? this table 

turns out to be reserved

for an event. i should

have quit and left after

the fake shooting happened

but i had to introduce

the next poet. talk about

being overly professional

you can run in circles

as mode of performance

disguised as resistance

or you can join the track

team. i wonder bread

how jerome sala would

finish this poem. would 

he admit to having been co-

captain of the track team 

in high school, and then co-

chair of a so-called discipline

at graduate art school? unlike

everyone the world claims

to be exposing us to, i

think the future is terrific

just please put everything

in the wrong order. some

ones were sitting here

& one of the ones showed

a poem on the phone to

the other one & i only 

know this because the

other one said i like the

rhythm of the first stanza

but i don't like the second

stanza & so sitting here re-

reading a chapter on pablo

picasso never got called

an asshole's guernica i decided

to finally write underneath

the title fake assassinated.

fuck periods at the ends of 

lines. no one noticed. that's 

cooted griebe. i told myself 

i'd only go back to the bard 

place for 50k & an apology. 

turns out 5k and "help" 

was enough. please kill 

me again. love, anselm

Kit Fisto

sly smiling tentacle

headed jedi never

really got to say

anything. dude was

green. highly skilled

came from a planet

named glee anselm

i love kit fisto

i hate it when he dies

he goes out like a chump