as much as i wanted to
force the insanity
through words,
the writer is long gone

what remains
are the howls of its
former self

only the beggars
and the cigarette
street vendors
can be excluded from
the numbness of the world. . .

vacation photos
shopping bags
thousand followers
and friends
fine dining
fame
fancy cars
a hundred year old champagne
political correctness
the rewarding feeling
the attention. .

we (they) have evolved
to a lesser being
with no purpose

and for when my direction
hits theirs (yours)
it would only cause
an exhausting and meaningless
bout of words to which
they (you) delusionalize
themselves with as to
an stimulating debate

i'm sorry. .
i guess i am as tired
as those exclusive school
graduates-activists
whenever there's
really nothing
to protest about
for the time being

whatever the rebut is,
"sure" comes in handy;
saves you all the trouble

i'll stop now..