Your words are saturated
with psychic lesions
billions of impressions
of a marketing driven
global quest for romance
the modern day achievement
built on some imaginary ideal
accompanied by the need
all the people who senselessly
feed it
like cybersex
as if you could fill the void
with a stranger’s mess
used at best like a bong
to take a hit off
a numbing fix
close enough to love
for those who’ve
never known a real hug

what’s really sexy
isn’t between my legs
but in my head
the rest is filler
one pair of tits or another
what’s the big deal
about chasing sensation
to its ends
for some imagined reward
an orgasm a whispered I love you
the momentary security
it’s all just going
in one direction
with one foot in the grave
age decay death

we live this ridiculous
contrived treasure hunt
for happiness
as if there were a mountain top
we could climb
plant a flag
and claim all the damn happy
that belongs to me now
so take that world
neener-neener

the bias is exposed nakedly
by the raw diversity
so many millions
so many voices
so much pain and need
chopped pieces of psyche
madness wrapped in lingerie
everyone feeling they
must reject must accept
all blindly posting
wants dreams hate anger
without seeing the strings
pulling every impulse

the social media machine
feeding addiction
ignorance blurring judgment
but what if the real
nitty-gritty authenticity
is the layer in between
the sandwich of hope and fear
beyond want or need

your taste buds are fried
with a sensory scantout
after so much fast food
porn violence narcissist
feeding frenzies
your sight is burned
with an Instagram filter
of over-exposed
densely saturated colors
photo-shopped emotions
posed to perfection
to the point that you can’t feel
or taste anything else

and yet the loneliness
slithers hungry beneath
deep within the belly
seeking relief