osiris’ wife capitalized on my benignity, she emblazoned
a visage on a screen promoting parasitic celebrity, voyeurism
itself turning on its head and devouring the world, it had created
fear in the minds of capitalism.
and then the shiny knife of numbness
pontificated on cutting out my words, and the freedoms
which shackle me to the grounded beliefs
of capitalism. so now i would exist
as a sarcastic rolling head
neither gathering moss nor money, nor everything
else that made me feel
dead. protest on and on
and on and protest because my corpse would miss me
and my corps is only poetic when it speaks
out of a tongue-in-blank void, the smiley face
of the future beheaded, i couldn’t help
but notice that my world was so morning
and my dreams were evening lullabies of mismatched
sleepy eyes rolling to the beat of a knife sawing at my closed-
Poet's Notes: This poem is a response to the capitalist/consumerist society in which we live. I believe that just because you are born into our system of economics or politics, does not mean that you are born free or born in a better world. Every system is corruptible, including ours, and I think many people numbingly take that for granted. This poem also deals with the fears of the future and the existential crisis of extremism sweeping across the globe.
Editor's Note: I find "caput" to be an interesting poetic commentary on mindless consumerism and the seedier side of capitalism. The poet's play on corpse/corps is particularly inspired.
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