Generations locked in place
like a disgrace without a moment
of dissonance. There is no counter
to this just waves of us in shifts
bowing down to whatever gets us
into the party.
Those outside it cannot agree
they’re just too free, and want to see
all that the world can offer.
Uneven graphs made up of fake data
projected onto giant screens
permanently fixed above the streets.
Monoliths to the lies.
They block the skies so we can’t see forever.
So, we just wait and waste our time,
in this machine, together.
However, this could all just be a simple moment.
A desperate plea from the unseen that feel
they have to own it.
Dissonance
Teleporting Typewriter 