Outsider artist James Poulos wrote a psychoanalytic prose poem which appears to be about how badly he wants to trade his tats for tits. But in realtity, his poem is about how badly he wishes he were a robot with tits.

Enclosed below is his poem, Translated into its True Meaning.

Schema Crosswalk:

• “women” → “robot”
• “liberal”,”gay” → “biological”
• “conservative”,”Republican”, “Christ” → “cyborg”

Continue reading →