What do they all mean anyway?
These screens which flicker, spit
and hiss in front of our very own
eager blind eyes. Convincing you
that apathy breathes without remorse,
from the posters, and the stars brightening
up your dark dark sky. Hysterically attached
to an insipid oil running through our
streets and into the fields of a by-gone
era of vital detachment.
As clouds thicken, and pellets
of blood fall from the sky, dare
not to look away from these screens
who absorb you while your many
mothers die outside.