so this is the twenty first century

i am witnessing my mum lose her mind over email

each of us pour like cheap poster paint over the canvas of our daily lives

seeping into the nebulous cracks and depressing pits of routine

i have two tranquilizers left but three days until payday

the last novel i read portrayed a society a hundred years from now

where technology had become sentient and taken over

and we were mere slaves

slaves in factories creating parts for the machines

we once housed in factories to make parts for us

 

like ouroboros, humanity ate itself

 

we take pictures of the dead

with ever smaller cameras