Save your last words
for the ratio.
Participate
in your own cancellation.
Wave after wave
of dopamine hits the brain,
and you’re vaporized;
nothing left behind.
Shallow as a mirror.
Depth reflected, too.
Conscience,
as easily lost
as innocence
to a skilled gamer.
Rotting on the bone.
Blood flow not enough
to keep it living.
Just about the end,
but we can’t see it, yet.
Swear we lost our minds,
as if
we ever had them.
Text box confessional,
but instead
of a patient priest,
a million blind accusers.
Mirrors,
just reflecting
our withheld bitterness.
Signpost warrior.
Nail a note upon the door
and swear to God
that you’re doing your part.
One of the many,
shepherded by the few,
eaten by the one,
and dissolved into nothing.
Zero sum equation.
The production stops,
so we can hear the song,
but as it plays,
too late we hear
that it is just
the burning wind,
come to blow us away.
Maybe we’ll be memories.
A thousand years,
ten thousand likes,
a million follows,
etched in the future
of some shining cyberscape.
Or, maybe not.
Maybe just rock,
etched by acid clouds,
and endless storms.
Meanwhile,
a million miles away,
someone looks
and swears,
they can see hints
of civilization.
HG – 2022