Banality Revisited
We
We were perched on a precipice of angular frustration
that was pushed into place by tectonic forces.
And we watched from on high like drunken spectators
as life inched clawless across the floors of seas.
To stay or fall was inconsequential –
One happens to the other’s exclusion.
Oh, taste grew bland with time,
so we set it aside to age
or harden (or become irrelevant?).
Our hunger is now unfettered by taste.
We post “yummy” and watch
the likes to know how good it was.
Is this the April resurrection?
Has the cruelest month passed?
Will we datta dayadhwam damyata?
“Oh, just Google it; problem solved.”
I
Should I browse?
Or type messages
to my friends?
Or my mother?
Or my wife
who sits beside me?
Why bother when
everything is packaged?
I wake, shower, and leave,
breakfast tucked under arm,
meat, but no harm.
By this verse I know
I’ve forgotten my code,
or password,
or personal ID
in all the clatter.
But does any of it matter?
Should my poem end here?
Have I asked the wrong questions?
It
No soil remains or toes to burrow.
Birds and bears and even dogs have left
in search of food and peace and safety.
And HR waits for an etherized patient.
There is no overwhelming question here.
Just never-ending scrolls
and likes and links and blogs and bites
‘til rules and guidelines scatter into bits
of information for my imagination.
So click here if you agree.
Or click here to go back.
Or click here to order now.
Will half-time pyrotechnics,
dumb-lit and short lived,
bemuse and drive the game,
or tickle emotions like a maître-de-café?
The gods await the mist at concert’s end
and walk hand-in-hand offstage,
leaving reruns of reality TV.
“This call may be recorded after all!”
“This call may be recorded for training purposes.”
Take solace that wild dogs may still return
and viruses claim babies’ lives
and couples stroll to blood sunsets
and death be welcomed once again