Posthuman

She’s got eyes like zapruder
And a mouth like heroin
She wants me to be
Perfect like Kennedy
This isn’t god, this isn’t god
God is just a statistic,
God is just a statistic
Say,
Show me the dead stars,
All of them sing
This is a orion
Religious and clean
God is a number you cannot count to
You are posthuman and hardwired
She’s pilgrim and pagan
Softworn and so-cial
In all of her dreams
She’s a saint like Jackie-O
This isn’t god, this isn’t god
God is just a statistic,
God is just a statistic
Say, show me the dead stars,
All of them sing
This is a orion
Religious and clean
(Coma White):
All that glitters is cold, all that glitters is cold