I feel like an animal changing coats for the winter
My companion’s creator of this new AI world
His head like a cookie you know you can’t swallow
Sporting yellow canvas trousers and violet skin gloves
Here he controls every reality
Knows the price of each of his wards:
Everybody steals, everybody sells
The best part of themselves
He’s slouching on a crimson plush sofa
Surrounded by rows of gilded steel mirrors
Trimmed in radioactive pink
It’s all too bright, too neon
Too Toon
I stare in ten mirrors and see ghost colored hair
A bulging forehead of unimaginable depth
My immense sadness locked in that fuzzy dome
The master’s tales turn sleazy and scary
Treating his people like throwaway lines
I slap his cheeks till they’re burning white
He rips my face with his nickel-plate gun
I’m flying onto the floor
No shot
But a deep purple gash between his eyes
Pink colored blood stains the sofa
This clown’s a corpse?
An armored car brakes outside
Blue skinned police with weepy cloud eyes
Put a gun to my head, I’m cuffed to the ceiling
It’s invisible but I can’t move my hand
Tell me I’m arrested for murder
My own?
I demand my rights
The leader points to the sofa, says
There are no rules
God just died
My fingers flatten to a pale pink plane
They’re turning me into a Toon
Blood hisses in my veins
Fires flash, syncopated sparkles
Direct my eyes to a long flat screen
It’s playing the film of my horrible new life
I’m prisoner-slave for life in New Toontown
No escape without magical strength
But my wand’s still hocked in some real-world shop
What I wouldn’t give for an eraser now