November 27, 2016 § Leave a comment
Giants fight, swinging at clouds.
Molecular holes pierce through blue
body punches and upper cuts at once.
What sounds will wince as cars and buses,
under the weight of falling body.
Underground words by rail or chant
cross country to protectors and
protesters, Shaman and trickster.
Wizarding worlds of fictitious futures
stuck in their past, unable to remain in
the present for more than a soundbite.
This is the what is of now we see,
the way of social solitude and global
individualism, as we all share alone.