Baal Downloads Tinder
At last, a site debaucherous enough to render quittance
for these anchoritic years passed in a wasteland
that bills itself the capital of pleasure,
yet ornaments its trade in flesh with neon lights
overcompensating,
Baal snorts,
for its primordial incognizance of carnality's roots in worship.
6'6...because apparently it matters,
Baal begins.
The text he lifts from aleatory rivals;
"It is better to recapture an army entire than to destroy it."(1)
He must prioritize the pictures as misinformation darts afoot
Engravings of a flabby, thin-tailed elder with poor posture
fabricated by that pretender to his throne, accursed Moloch
A bovine commoner who weaseled his way into the Masoretic text,
Impersonating him in the public records
Copying his demand for child sacrifice
Seducing Milton and Flaubert
He will pay him no mind
Convoking images of his own muscular physique, commanding horns,
He knows he will be a great success.
Baal sees in this virtual marketplace the re-sacralization of sexuality
Inscription-bearing idols, true and false, reaped by the fistful
He will conclude the municipal broadcast of his images with dexterity
If I Super Liked you, it was by accident
Let no one say Baal lacks thrift and expedience
These are the weapons of the victorious general.
Baal is ready to perambulate the horned wilderness
This will be a hothouse of orgiastic pleasures
This will be a garden of infernal delights
This will be
So many hieroglyphics of eggplant?
INFJ ENTP they are signaling to each other in a code,
the only code Baal knows is that of Hammurabi, swift, just
"Come here girl and let me give you the pain you crave"
Who is this
"Does hemophilia run in ur family because u r a Princess"
Baal grows weary of being misgendered
He will pay the gold edition, 30 pieces of silver per month
As these pestilent technologists refuse to barter in livestock...
By phynance's jumble-giblets!
300 likes within 1 mi of the convergence of the Tigris and Euphrates
Scrolling through the flesh fair,
Baal enjoys how many tender themselves in tribute unto him
He yearns for a satyricon in a stately public square
For a saturnalian romp through the masses' undergarments
For some bibulous wassailing on the trunks of his enthusiasts
Where is the "receive all" button?
He does not understand why he must approve them one by one
He covets the lot; he's catholic in his preferences, a celebrant
Yet while their images compel him as a crowd,
Considered piecemeal, he suspects deceit
There are no normal professions like bedweveres, haymongers, quiltresses
And though they claim to seek companions, they drift unmoored from all great textual traditions,
their placards make no mention of the great romance of Baal and his sister Anath,
Who did not stop at dismembering and burning Mot after Mot killed Baal, but also fed Mot to the birds
He ratifies the hordes, but now there is something about messaging
He did not come here to wallow in word-porridge, he clicks through with increasing resentment
"I'm only here for the dogs"
This one sounds perverse, Baal is beguiled
"You will sit in my meat grinder while I read you Stories from Ancient Canaan?"
"is that a eupfemism lol"
Baal sends a hieroglyph of an oil drum
and the unlettered one invites him for a beer
Baal begins to cry, he hates this part of the Bible
"And they brake down the image of Baal, and brake down the house of Baal, and made it a
draught house unto this day. 2 Kings 10:27"
"????"
"They drink beer where they should worship Baal's images, burn incense unto him"
Baal sends many exclamation marks
The unlettered one fails to respond.
No one, really, is responding
Baal is beginning to think he doesn't fit in; he will do a handstand in front of a megalith to entice
more quarry
He posts a selfie astride Ángel Caído's horn
ERROR 40403
Back to the forest of drought and famine.
****
(1) Sun Tzu, The Art of War, trans. Lionel Giles (New York: Race Point, 2017): 9.
