The droplets hang heavy
Sweat from the pipes
and run down the walls
The morning epileptic
The flashes dance
upon shallow asphalt pools
Trigger warnings echo
The car park trembles
Gives momentary consideration
of a pancake collapse
While commuters flee
mindless of their peril
Deaf, dumb and blind faces blur
devoid of emotion
Indifference their shelter
Like umbrellas in a maelstrom
Images of your impish face
Portraits move in black and white
Sleeves in 23
As you fade to Colour
we find your freckles
Splashes of crimson
though your world remains grey
Will it still end in tears?
When duochrome mirrors
gaze at us in horror
Black, empty sockets
Mural of pain
beckoning need
Like Guernica now
We stared west across the plain
Watched the earth drop away
White line
Vanishing point
Our ears to the rail
for surely our train was coming
The earth will tremble beneath us
long before that black blot appears
Growing from purple horizon beyond
Phantom hands seek
Reaching for us
Drowning floods
Consuming fires
Erasure
We become fossils in the concrete
Of some future race
Hush
Retread heroes
Nothing is epic
when everything rises
to a low bar
No surprises
Where is the ethic?
You’re not a movement
You’re a genre
The latest installment
in a flavorless buffet
Get your fill
Sit down, stay
Await further instruction
This is your induction
to the Hall of No One Cares
The world is a large place
Grows smaller by the hour
The core condensed
As our orbit expands
Rhetorical flourishes speak of nothing
And land ends at the crease of the map
Frogs on a hotplate
To kittens in a blender
Misinformation expands
While memory contracts
Contrary speech hate
Return to sender
Easy substitution
For inconvenient fact
The gnostics cry from the grave
Leaving no question unposed
While still short on answers
Your prescription
Like conscription
Laxatives for stifled minds
Prophylactics for unclean thought
Cause for a day
Until new victims cultivate
Burn all the Savior myths
Your Messiah is the state
The reward is nothing
Inheritance spent
She must have carried a heavy weight
Something peculiar about her gait
Sophistry as legal tender
The march that reeks of sour agenda
We are woke
We have open eyes
We can see you’re the tyrants
You claim to despise
Your every defense and objection
shows your mastery of projection
You could hold your own parade
but your shit doesn’t sell
You’re the flavor of popsicles
served in Hell
And the anger etched upon your face
is what’s made this country an ugly place
So just go home to your precious safe space
They came singing new anthems
Marching beneath banners
of the anti-hero
Cashing out of mainstream dream
amid affections grown cold
Themes that have grown old
No mile markers
No exit signs
Only highways empty
We watch the young lads
marching off to their fortunes
Fortunes of gold
Fortunes of war
Ill fated obsessions
and the shot never heard
At the watering hole they gather
Friend and foe alike
They share poisons
Gossip and competition
Peeling labels hold their attention
as they await proclamations
These are the new commandments
Be silent
Consume
Die
