mah maou

In America
I was held captive
by the All Hail Trumpets
blown through silent breezes
to live in the Now New World
as a datum,
connected, saturated, mindless,
charged with nervous wattage
accumulated through gears and transistors
in storefront hamster wheels;

Alike to our beds and sofas,
standing rigid on dreary, dusty hardwood floors,
in remembrance of ancient hewn giants,
sanded to the finest grain,
erected o’er the tedium of insanity:
mundane, detached, removed, bemused.

And sayeth ye to those
who never would twice guess the motive:
“Doth not ye ignore the crimes of patria potestas
lest ye be swallowed yourself by the seeping ignorance,
of the All Prey God Freedom Trust Protector.”

And sayeth ye who would dare to gasp aloud:
“Chill not mine eyes
with ghastly truths,
to look upon this evil revealed,
and silence mine lips,
and bind these limbs
that, though seeing and hearing, I may not act.
And blindfold my brothers and sisters
that, though acting, I may not accomplish feat.”

Nay…rather, sayeth naught,
ye who are One with Eyes Opened Together;
may you never sink to this
lazy artifice,
bloated, dammed, routed passage,
nor feed to its dull green torrents,
dog-eared, torn, folded and battered,
unto rivers that no longer reach the sea.