Friday, July 25, 2025

poem

 (untitled)


When your taste in art says everything about

your level of sleepwalkingness,

and when the popular consensus

says all of it's rotten,

that’s when you pivot—

where you declare you’re

not in a pod like the beginning

of the movie The Matrix,

that you don’t know how to do

what Neo did,

but you’re there in spirit.


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