Every symptom burned.

Nerve endings frayed,

like wires in a system,

dragged down a gravel road,

 and submerged in dark water.

Files corrupted.

Whether it’s the source code,

or the injected vitriol.

Can’t imagine it stays the same

after the purge,

after the torch,

and the acid bath.

Who would want it this way?

Living in the stain

remains dungeon-esque.

The platitudes

no longer feed the need.

They cure like Methadone.

Just a small accusation.

Monkey on the back,

becomes the Devil on the shoulder.

Fire for effect,

we’re moving this party closer.

Burn up the day

with another hangover.

Split the over/under,

the odds of getting sober.

Wake up from this,

like a Covid fever dream.

Never saw the weather

as “Extreme.”

Just coming on.

Bring the rain,

bring the frost,

bring the snow.

It’s gonna be our time to go.

Sensing patterns

in the chaos

was a curse,

not a gift.

Could have left

well enough alone,

but we were told

there was something better

that all of this.

A high

that we could not resist.

Like touching a power outlet.

No doubt,

we’re straight up addicts.

Can’t see technology

for the trees,

or count our hard assets.

Over and over

this game plays out

and we keep pumping quarters in,

expecting the payoff.

Dopamine trickle.

So easily amused.

So easily confused.

Disappointed with the programming

so, we turn on the news

and are programmed

by the thing we thought

would carry us.

We’re Pavlov’s dogs

in this experiment.



DJR – 2022

Leave a Reply