Tuesday, April 27, 2021
Sunday, April 18, 2021
Wednesday, April 14, 2021
Poem
(untitled)
Reflecting upon the reality
of suicide nets
and all the implications:
where a person can't take
making phones all day anymore
and tries to throw themselves out a window;
how their government
allow corporations
to treat its people
like that;
how its corporations
are tied to our corporations,
and how many of the people on these boards
are former members of government;
and if we allow this much longer,
the inevitable is how our grandchildren
will come to know suicide nets.
The agenda has become one
behind the media people
presenting it as diverse and free,
a silence of silence
hanging in the air ever
since Jack Johnson sang his song
asking where all the good people gone.
A decade on since and now we have proof
in the decimation of history and culture,
and all the clay relics from the beginning;
where the promise of unlimited access
to information electronically,
has now been corralled into a few choices
offered by a few CEOs.
The inevitable is how grandchildren
will come to know suicide nets,
where life is a spread sheet,
so unbearable
certain spirits
cannot abide
its bathos.