Sifting through a tidal wave of occur,
Poised as if looking out from a perch,
Or the steeple of a browsing church…
Where art flirts and blurbs twerk,
Unicorns perk like we work.
Artisan for partisan lark & flirt.
That comment on quips chirped,
Please like my life so I can stan… shirk.
Like tweet slurps from berserk jerks.
Insanity innate in net works with loss of net-worth as souls are purged.
Metrics to connect kids who transmute into conversions or lesser digital versions of their once skin, now next of wish list bishops who’s rookery can’t check shit.
I’ve tired of these wires and clouds that perceivably weigh us down with clown anecdotes and reality tv tropes that blow like viral notes dissonant and uncontrolled.
Oh snap…
Chatter dissipating like matter,
Facts that pattern change are now rearranged by those who’ve caved.
And I wonder if the chalk talk is canceled now… or spent rage.
Outed, chased.
