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We’re a flip book,
going through
the motions.

Drawn together,
we cycle through
acts of devotion.

Forming an illusion,
we thumb through
our emotions.

At book end,
we backflip through
the life chosen.

hands down,
drop down
and the
let-go follow.

wind blown
returns and
the soul
turns hollow.

color warms
before burn,
until grey
days swallow.

forest floor,
crush absorbs;
not many
more tomorrows.

esoteric demerits,
handed out by
those that inherit,
finite judgements
that single out
the embarrassed;
forcing a pin
on them like a
scarlet letter that
screams “wear it!”
a medal that
hangs out as rarest;
no clamoring for
honoree to permit
they share it,
its a wonder why
they even bare it…

Ghost checks made
by a 5K renegade —
crypto gets him paid,
promises get you played;
mass media naiveté,
treasury under raid,
to build back better
a ballroom bunker arcade,
where high fash serves
reflectin pool kool-aid;
Nero’s violin holds sway,
populace sharpens blade;
it’s all American made.

undulating cool,
waterway soothe;
solace on the move,
withdrew in blue.

your silhouette met regret,
standing over emptiness;
keeping a dark depth,
a long standing shadow illness.

out the darkness crept,
going well beyond its breadth;
a contagion unchecked,
infecting hosts in their stillness.

a fate met in intercept,
sickness blackens bated breath;
out the shadow leapt,
deepening deathly darkness.

out of control console,
every button takes it’s toll;
pressed into service,
pressed to cajole —
lit up, no longer doing
what it’s been told.

madness manifold —
well beyond threshold,
flesh warped
as mind loses hold;
remove the blindfold,
you’re controlled by
an out of control console.