Waiting out a three-day social media ban
While the newly installed compromise government sends rockets overhead
We ousted the extremist
No more need to worry yourself,
Go back to sleep, it’s just the usual deal
Rank death on the installment plan
You know you’re a degenerate, when they ban you for the truths you know
And the anarchist collective tells you, you’re breaking the decorum and the cringe
You make them feel, makes them feel you had better go
It’s the usual fate of a rational man
It’s a troll in the dungeon upsetting the clan
Predator drones can’t abide too much heat
They seek out the comfort, but explode when it’s meet
You need to go outside they tell you
And of course they’re right
But I told the truth yesterday
And the only one who wasn’t offended
Was my sense, and the bright
So I take the advice, cut off from discussion, lonely and upset by all the things they get to send as updates
down the pipe
All the everyday world
All the offense, the sick blight
The clean white room fluorescent where they tell you to sit and wait
for hope is a thing, [here’s the decree], you experience all by yourself
On the shores away from crowded shells
The bubbles in the foam of polluted waves
You sing it off elsewhere, knowing apart the fate of the world
In a lethal injection chamber, where you lie back and relax to watch the screens
Like a bloated dope
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
While your patented madman scream of justice,
They porcelain make you frozen, glitched
A hummel figurine, crusted old and dusted, kitsch
While the room slowly fills with the gas they used as auschwitz
The Haunted Typewriter 