This poem deals with the theme of our increasingly virtual lives and the increasing challenge of what is close enough to reality to pass as a humane reality.
Post, Post, Post Modern
They had
Graduated from that small, small world
Modern to postmodern
Onto mirrorly post, post, post
Some fun hows
As all their dreams ricocheting
From the big, big screen to the little screen
Back
And fourth
Without place
That prevailing strategy
The modern mine virtual
As fact simile
Nay, love simile!
Though bad, bad copy
Wresting precariously on rare earth
A genuine whirled
For those who want
The most
Infinitesimal foundation
As if
A speck holed up
In tired universe
Bots purporting
As upside down
Pyramid scheme
The gravity of witch
May kill us for a spell
And awe for what
To consume
Bits and byte sized whirled
A virtual flower in the cloud
Some wear
When actually living a mist
Concrete and steal
Boxes
Of unknown mettle
That fool sell
Charged buy petrochemicals
All the wile
Know dirt
In our hands
To see passed
Planted fauxs
Weather leaves of grass
Or weed
Worshipping a semiconductor
A desert that dust nothing
Let alone
Breathe life
In a drop of water
Weather toil it
Or limpid pool
We are amor
Then animals
With feral arts
Yet we are apped
Rather living in a zoo
With maximal bars
Is it any surprise
Not being
Caught off grid
As we are awe
Soully looking
For what
A muse
Meant
As the balm
Rested for fragrancy
