In times of tumultuous circumstances,
one ought to be interesting;
there are no merits for bland words
and banal verbatim,
even less for click-share sentiments
that weep with the sincerity
of a chopped onion.
Our striped bar avatars,
smooth, plastic faces
displace our discourse
with a buoyant sense
Self serving and ineffectual ,
ironically, least serving to the self.
It is not fulfillment.
It is not purpose.
Surely, we are ashamed,
at the best we can muster in times of crisis;
a virtual response,
a collective intake of breath,
but no resultant exhale.
The global village was once
quick to grab the torch and pitchfork,
storm the monster’s castle,
rescue the damsel in distress.
Valiance, villianized and denigrated,
engineered out of us;
replaced by promises of tears never shed,
prayers that never pass our lips,
and retribution that never comes.
Up in arms and never lift a finger,
curiously feigning outrage
to complete our profiles.
Narcissistic and self loathing;
the exquisite juxtaposition is lost
in the throng’s crush for acceptance.
Never has being angry and terrified
been so boring.
HG – 2015