So many more blue eyes in the world
Scrolling through their rolodex
Consuming dopamine one thumb up at a time
The slang is commonplace, replacing native tongues
The hair is the same on every dumb limbering drone
Conversations sound like e-speak read aloud in an open mic
Except that the audience participates in every false interaction
As plastic as the shoreline after spring break.

Thoughts are collective in a hive mind
Crowdsourced down to their brow line
Manufactured obedience in obediently serving for that last drip
Dopamine drips in the form of a click.

Awkward silence on the subway,
If it’s not on TikTok, they can’t say
Words shift into a balloon animal display
Twisted in knots, unable to hear clarity
But can walk the dog like a yo-yo trick if it bottled sincerity
Because these blue eyes are strained and strange
Locked into a perpetual gaze into the bottomless aether
Searching for the next fix.
Dopamine drips in the form of a click.

Cliques of cliches
And Temu personaliites
A carbon copy of a copy copying copies of something copied.
And the beat goes on like an arrhythmic heart
No worry for when the pressure rises
They’d rather have a stroke than see the OH in Cheerios
Because it’s not sweet enough to find the ordinary
When you can dine on lucky charms and chase rainbow fairies
See they’re stuck, them, and they, ze or zur -
Needing that dopamine drip from the clicks

And as I watch devolution
These zombies are tethered to their thought pollution
Parasitic in their dissolution
Walking these streets with their strings tugged by the beat of filters
I know I could never be a screen ****** apparatchik.

Man is the spider and the fly,
Caught in a world wide web.
Human nature is a toxic rain,
Filling invisible clouds with data.
One day we will eat each other,
As we drink our poisoned air.

Laughter and leisure as free will flows
Attention fades in this comfort zone
Chatter with chewing, mixed between both
Unknown senses tickle the throat

More than a stutter
Chuckle has froze
Esophagus tightened
Pretense to pose
Raising some questions
They already know
Air flow now closed

Gasping as no space left kept for breath
Eyes turn to water bloodshot entry blocked
Unimpressed to be consumed by death
Slapped to the back
Less access this isn't a test

Selfish are the flames of the candles,
They don’t want to share their light.
They are waiting for miracles,
In the coldness of the bitter night.

The light will come,
When it suits them.
They are giving,
When they are receiving.

Bare the light for those who wish to seek it,
Hold the hand of darkness and bring it into the light.

We work to spend
Do it all again
Masterful marketing
designed to **** you in

Caught in the riptide of desire
down the sea of consumerism,
If you happen to fall in
you better know how to swim.

Walmart on a Sunday evening
Feels like my brain
At 4 am
Every thought looks well made
Until I hold them
And feel the lack of substance
And then I realize
How many people I let in
That only came for something to do

Advertise my soul,
capitalise from my sins.
Dig the earth for coal,
a market built for kings.
Suppress for your control,
fill your life with things.
Abolition of self-control,
a life attached to strings.

All our lives are we cultivated—
Cultivated by birth,
Cultivated by parents, friends, teachers—
By the ethos—
which in turn cultivates the identities which we don—in search of a self.


Cultivated by Earth—Irrigated by Love.
All so, to be purchased by Death—
A ripened Consumer.

I want to live, but
I want to crawl inside my past.
Personal history
will set me free at last,
regardless of what burns my tongue
as if it's on the cusp of being said.
If I find my womb again, well,
good enough for me, I guess,
that I will have won.

I want to live!
I want to crawl inside my mind.
I haven't found dogs that write scripture
for all that I've searched.
While I realize it could be,
I ask myself, "How long will you toil
in the name of agency
all to find
someone to take your shame
and make it palatable?"

Trend is set from continued action
My inaction left me numb and blind
The trend is set that my earthly distributors
May take of me as they find me if I'm turned off
The trend is still the same as the dreams
My grandparents had for a better world
Trend toward full automation

Fine for '56
What am I doing now?
How do I live without
knowledge?

My distributors and keepers
kept me wet
in their fluids
using my blood
before but

They will not win this war.
I commit myself to sit and reconnect.
If a hand offers me happiness,
I'll ask, first, Which conglomerate?
If my choices seem chiseled
In the mint of coins
And the choices fit perfectly opposed
I'll remember my nose and sniff
Out the metals that fund this war.
I'll ask then, Whose coin is this?

And it's not ungrateful
When those with all the excess
Try and rule the world
Because of how bored with
What Is they've become
And exactly absolute

Well, what if
I decide there's no war?
Well, what if
I bow my head and take a knee?

People of my same society will laugh at me,
And chastise my every thought before
They say, for sure, "It's just how it works."
Then either crush me from high
Or forget me and play State of Decay
Until they forget how much they're worth.

I hold.
There is no war.
This is not a game.
This is our Existence.
Fragile at best.
This is beyond
Humility.
This is actual
Neglect.