Scammer

Luke Roberts had this to say about Scammer: Flaubert said with my burned hand I write about fire. In Scammer, Dom Hale plunges his whole head into the datastream, dictating his blips and theme songs through mouthfuls of toxic waste. He has his own venom: its about style and its about form. These poems dont just sprinkle on a little diction or flip a filter on or off. Theyre not accessories. They perform increasingly desperate attempts to find some texture in the frictionless glow of the screen. Whats the etymology of scam? What was your mothers maiden name? How much surplus value did Silicon Valley extract since the start of this sentence? What year is this? Whats happening? What the actual fuck? Frack the Millenium Dome. Poison the Cabinet. Napalm Eton. Cancel the biopic of Northern Rock. Scammer is what weve been asking for in our sleep. A diagram of dead ends. A blueprint of cracks in the infrastructure. It reads just as good forwards as backwards, at any speed, straight to the head. You could cook an egg on it. You could cook two. Its legit.