Spencer Moreau
Content Warning: Violence, Mentions of drug use
Digital Vampire
I’m a motherfucker on a magical quest
NFT under my tongue at Charon’s shores
Shunned from Elysium, born from Tartarus
I like to practise my poses in my coffin for the Tube,
A chrysanthemum border for my Instagram,
Calcium powder and natron on my Twitter
A new cult of Dionysus, my own island in the Meta
Blood laps at the shores of my paradise and I inch closer to Hades,
To Pluto, to Osiris, to Lucifer and Nergal
A hedonistic heaven, a look beyond the firewall
A freak that comes out at night, delving
Into your neighbourhood, knocking at your brain
Just let me in
I spill casks of blood and wine to melt your flesh,
And fry your circuits
I strip you bare, down to your very fibres and nodes
To mould you into the perfect being
Curved to sit in my hands
Self-Destructive Habits
Half a cart of a vape for breakfast,
Stub my ciggie out in a two-step slide,
Filling up with a cheese single for lunch
Now I’m feeling impulsive
There’s something in the water, my scalp itches,
Some 20 vol bleach as a chaser,
Clouds of melon smoke mix with marijuana,
And I’m feeling self-destructive again,
My hair is orange, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?
I’m on the road again and I want a hoverboard,
I’m not paying two dollars a litre for something
I can’t take off the ground,
But we’re busy arguing whether the planet is dying or not,
Whether the illuminati are creeping in my closet or not,
Whether the internet’s the root of all evil or not
So I’m getting on as a fuck you to Jeff Bezos,
That nerd Zuckerburg, too
Fuck the lot of them, where’s my cyborg arm?
What do you mean I can
Have an ass the size of Jupiter,
But we can’t even travel to Mars?
I’ve been locked in my house for two years,
Now I’m out in the sun, trying to relax in a tree,
But some cunt just bought it, and now
It’s an AirBnB.
Cyberspace Hustle
I’m selling feet pics on the internet,
The dogs are out, the pound’s on watch
Angles, pans, zooms, and a spin, bitch
Working that coin on my OnlyFans, no toes
For free, these grippers come with an exorbitant fee
That’s a real digital footprint
Why should I care about five years down the line
With a corporate plan? I’m just lucky if I make it that far.
It’s called new money, adapting to the cybertrade
Limitless ports and shipping docks
Disks, hard drives, USBs, and the cloud, bitch
It’s the new age, Bruce Wayne could never
Trust fund kid with no parents? Have a whinge.
I’m out here selling feet pics to pay my bills,
Not fucking around in spandex,
Dropping bags on bat shaped weapons to impress some clown.
Author: Spencer Moreau is a Māori author and game developer who likes to explore the macabre. Whether it be satire or horror, Spencer always has an eye for the odd, the absurd, and the creepy. They have an affinity for Lady Grey tea, and can often be found annoying their cat, Prawn, or doing tarot readings for their friends.
Artist: Sarah McLachlan is a third year Bachelor of Creative Writing student who likes to draw in her spare time. She wishes to combine both her art and writing skills to create a webcomic of her own one day, but she’s also open to illustrating for books and book covers. Sarah is also a major The Legend of Zelda fan and can be found drawing a lot of elves. You can find her at @hideriame02 on Instagram.
Editors: Willow Ward and Hannah Vesey