Listen, the odd, unexpectedness of life after Covid,
the thoughts that...
surface, after the second Moderna shot,
when the conspiracy
seems suited to a new sorting of future humans,
except giving exceptionally focused long attention
spans with magician level hand-eye in REM,
which is recorded as text,
among the augmented,
the AI has an inside
peek at certain data,
the various vaccines are
making various immunity mods, that only work
on septuagenarians,
and then, for only fifty more years.
Be patient, if you fail to live fifty more years,
it's because you got the useless old person
vaccine that lets one ***** and moan
to death in < 12 months… so you won't notice.

Fifty years from now, ***** Harry.
Now, George Floyd, and Portland,
no-- fifty years from then, is that now,
we skipped that decade… I burned all the songs.
But,
but -nuthin' that zapped me ***** harry bein' fi'ty years,
and Shaft, too. Man, it was prophecy…
you gotta know those Seventies,
those was strange…

but mine were stranger. The joy of living in a lie,
where no body dies,
you can do that in certain kinds of stories,
kid versions, that
get represented for role play, as needed.
Robin Hood, most tellings, death is secondary evil.
Nobody dies in Grand Theft Auto, really,
but
it feels real, think, how much realer it feels,
at the mirror neutronic level where all imput is real
and authorized- allowing instant dopamine level
total galvanic response shock to seven in one
chakra zulu creflo dollah hollah
holy hallelujah

Seisachtheia - wait

there. that did it if it was ever done.

Reset, still ctrl alt del?
Screen froze.

Dawn breaks,
Wind rages,
The crow caws thrice.

Marvel at the poet's sin,
Bardic Rule of Law,
Inspiration at Death's Maw.

Deep pockets of space-time,
Treasured energies and auras.
Always looking outward, never within.

Universe, overture of divine sadness.
Humanity, limerick of contained madness.
Bound infinitely in harmonic chaos.

Rivers run rampant.
Time tinkers tides.
Vengeful voids vie.
Worlds wither woefully.

And yet, endless and forever,
The iridescence of written word,
Bends all things against discord.

Do you ever sit and listen
     To the bards of daylight
Do you ever sit and listen
     To the ghosts of the night
They both share their poems
Just to a different hue
     Of life

here's to all the beautiful people
with cracked facades and glorious souls
to the ones transparent and forgotten
who's mind's hear in rainbows and see in music
here's to the true odists and bards
who share their laughter and shine through pain
to all the invisibles within which the only true beauty resides
may you always share your truth
may we never become blinded to your grace