It all feels a bit off kilter
like we're seeing
what they want us to see,
like a builder
adding walls
to obscure the view.
we sit. Just detainees,
watching the news
repeatedly spilling ever colder lies
like an Ikea fountain of youth
that only makes you older.
Controlling a narrative
by blurring lines of the truth,
then they march us to the polling booth,
to pick from two sides
of the same worn old crooked coin.
The view
not such a spherical state,
it's taken on a 2d paper plane,
flying on the airwaves.
so now everything
is devoid of mass and weight.
Being driven insane
by this constant wind of hate.
We feed it, bait it, berate
when it turns up late.
Hatred at a difference,
that is only skin deep.
It just feels off kilter.
like it's been put through
a Snapchat filter.
Everything is distorted
to a reshaped mesh,
Aldi middle aisle mess
of bits and pieces, lies and distress.
Contorting our edges
until there is nothing of us left.
All that remains are those ripples of hatred,
spreading like red ink blots
across headline paper cuts
twisting the minds
of those who
are already looking
from the bottom up.
Thanks for reading
No comments:
Post a Comment