Angry and yet eating
Subversive feelings, but fleeting
passive no. aggressive
Sprinting from history but stumbling
in hundred dollar crocs, with socks
decidely, brutally unorthodox.
Statues toppling Books burning
for order, yet waste.
Rounding the bases backwards
an awkward stupid fixed game of baseball
in a park with no fences
with umpires who call only balls and no strikes.
Now an engineered game for who makes the most hate
and the most likes.
A sick manic panic song
with no rhythm or reason or rhyme
and a crashing piercing melody
of no peace, no justice, but for the crime.
A dream, a psychotropic schizo being
illogical, and unseeing
Is what by well practiced indifference
and technological delerium I am fleeing.
Makes no sense.