"Dehumanize me, my God"


[I]

I am a number
On a file
In a folder
at the hard disk
of my sponsor's computer.

I am a 20-digit ID
on 12 A4-size pages
with 3 subsections:
"Personal Data"
"Academic Progress"
"Financial Report".

I am a plan
printed onto paper
photocopied to the
human resource department
by my student advisor.

I am a statistic
on a pie chart
On the wall
In a conference room
At the KLCC office.

I am an investment
That lives off the profit
Of a multinational
Oil and gas
Corporate culture.


[II]

I hate it when
I masturbate to a
Picture that
Stares back at me.

I hate it when
I ejaculate at the
Shaven vagina
On the LCD screen.

I hate it when
I make love to a
JPEG that
Is thumbnailed wrong.

I hate it when
I feel ugly;
Naked couples
Having beautiful sex.

I hate it when
I feel stupid;
Love handles
Around my stomach.


[III]

I have a job
That slowly kills me;
But I am happy
With the zeros on
My paycheck.

I have a cubicle
That becomes my home;
But I am sad
With the steady diet of
Microwave dinners.

I have a laptop
That crashes often;
But I am proud
With the quality of
My porn stash.

I have a degree
That pays for my food;
But I am worried
With the amount of
My college debt.


[IV]

My mother
Breastfeeds me
Tinned cowmilk.

My father
Stabs me
Secondhand smoke.

My wife
Fools me
Class-act orgasm.

My children:
Products of
Busted condom.

Have you met any
Test-tube bastards
Lately?


[V]

Vaginal plugs
In candy wrappings;
They look like
Delicious lollipops.

Religious fatwas
In forwarded emails;
They function like
Sentimental drivel.

Canned applause
In a TV sitcom;
They sound like
A detuned radio.

Monochromatic smiles
In journal entries;
They appear like
Love-letter typos.

Saturated fats
In freedom fries;
They taste like
Cherry-flavored antacids.


[VI]

This toy will
Educate my child
The virtues of
Making friends.

*****

The mechanical malfunction of
Her Macintosh machine is
Her nervous breakdown; so,
Help me God.


[VII]

I trust I can
Rely on the
Results of my
Online personality tests.


[VIII]

Those yuppies
Their cellphones;
These pompous
Noisy socialites.

*****

My memory is
Of DVD quality
Which is why my
CGPA is high.

My resume is
Of rainbow quality
Which is why my
Smile is wide.

I am your
Textbook-smart
Software-savvy
People-friendly
Candidate for the job.


[IX]

She dances
To the beat
Of the drum machine.

She cries
To the stories
Of the blogspot blabbers.

She listens
To the songs
Of her MP3 player.

She poses
To the eye
Of her new webcam.

(My pixel-perfect princess).

She is as beautiful
As the chemicals
That she smears
To her face.

She is as sexy
As the dresses
That she bargains
From the store.

She is as young
As the surgery
That she gets
In the nineties.

She is as busty
As the breasts
That she nails
To her chest.

She tastes like the real thing;
Too bad, gravity wins.


[X]

I name my computer
I give it personality.

The programs I write
They become my pets.

I have a black eye
From a message board fistfight.

I am not lonely
When the TV is on.

My semen smells like
Battery electrolyte.

Syntax errors
Bring me down.

Mistyped URLs
Annoy me always.

Broken links
Make me sick.

Be careful, my friend
Seawater will electrocute us all.

*****

This is the voice of a
Disgruntled robot;
Deconstructed
Paranoid
And on antibiotics;
In tears at the corner of the room.