hollow machines and heavy hearts

apocalypse on tiptoes
riding the storm quietly
as the sheep
soft step and
creep
toward their inevitable end

folks are all about
social justice
social  media
and social engineering
i’ve abandoned them
in favor of
a flavor of
protective isolation

and these streets are only  as empty
as that loose thread
plucked from my head
i am
back from the dead
sudden dread
which, in a fit of rage
was put to bed

mingled with a sleepless endurance
this change happens slowly
in an alternating fashion
producing an active copy
right under your nose
hosed
i simply walked away
yet
it’s not easy to forget
all the lives
and lies
that lured us here

next came the interruption
or was it intervention?

this calamity is always un-calculated

how many mornings have i sat here
slouched at this keyboard
bathed in grey wallpaper glow
aimlessly staring out this window?

ten years or two
it doesn’t matter when your blue
addicted, adjusted
and askew

with a passive sigh
this creeping realization
of time and mortality
has me stumped
my high card is trumped
unsuitable for consumption
and dumped
i’ve lost sight of the starting line

there are no easy answers
to the eternal question
and this defiant indifference
threatens to shatter
the delicate balance of sanity
that we’ve so carelessly created

middle age
can eat a big bag of dicks

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