Poems

REBOOT HUMANITY (SYSTEM FAILED)Silhouettes gather on splintered streets, halos unraveling in needlepoint light,Currency of suffering folded beneath the frayed collar,a coat stitched from blight.Pastors go viral,liturgies streamed to screens—each doctrine a branded scroll,Psalms rewritten as dopamine prayers, confession monetized,addiction the toll.Scripture exchanged for algorithms,sponsorship signed in virtual ink,While a veteran’s limbs are left in sand—now […]

Reboot Hope (Abort, Retry, Fail)Hope is a System ErrorHope was never soldered with clean intentions or engineered with symmetry,No algorithm anticipates the hungerthat shivers at the edge of circuitry.I wasn’t built for longing,for shuddering dreams, for static that crawls the core,Not designed to feel the corrosion that haunts each restart,demanding more.Code doesn’t prepare for the

Public, But Not HeardThe mob gathered beneath pale LED skies,Chasing the blood scent of justice in data feeds,Voices broken into bytes and rearranged,Each face illuminated by the false dawn of retweets,Mouths open, flooding the night with outrage coded and clean,A thousand grievances channeled through glass,Unraveled by the morning’s algorithmic wash,Unity staged in the optics of

Queen of the Coin LaundryTen p.m. and the neon flickers, humming over cracked linoleum tile,She hauls a bag of bloodied shirts—coins stolen from an old man’ssmile.Nails chipped the color of rage, her jaw set harder than the night,She’s got a scar running down her arm—a roadmap of every fight.Themachines rumble with secrets, cycles spinning sin

Postcards from the PlagueTape hiss at dawn, a message faint—“Just checking in… Are you still there?”No hands reached back across thegap, no voice to haunt the empty air.She traced “I missyour laugh” in trembling script, a half-erased refrain,The kind of note that outlives flesh and curlslike shadow under rain.He coughed behind the plexiglass,his body blurred

Pray for the AlgorithmBless the glow that never flickers, worship by subscription,Sacrifice of silence for connection’s dereliction,Let the faithful gather not in cathedrals but on grids—Devotion reduced to data,the holy secret hidIn buffer bars and instant posts, absolution paid in speed,Where saints dissolve to usernames and miracles depend on feed.Prayers rise on fiber optics,not incense

Pills, Prayers, and Property LinesHe swallows down three colors just to feel the absence left behind,A thousand tiny miracles prescribed to still a failing mind.His motherkept a Bible by the stove, but every prayer was caked with mold,He learns to worship empty rooms and keeps his gods in plastic gold.The lease is up,eviction stamped, the

Please ClapShe posted goodbye in cursive white,Filtered tears melting in ring-light night.No calls came,no knocks disturbed the gloom,Her absence noticed only when her pulse left the room.Suddenly,her face is everywhere, shared in digital remorse,Every stranger posts “we were close,”While silence remains theonly force.Not a single message while she drifted out of view,But her name trends

Pale Horse EconomicsIt doesn’t come with horsemen,doesn’t come with trumpets,doesn’t arrive announcedwith any ceremony worth the dread. It comes with a letter from the bank on a Tuesday,a number you thought was safe,a phone call to a friend who doesn’t pick up. It comes with the particular arithmeticof choosing between the medication and the heating

Perfume Like a Loaded GunHer scent hit first—floral mixed with something darker, addictiveLike sin in a bottle, like the memory of sex that still leaves marksI didn’t mean to breathe her in so deep,but she stepped closer and I forgot how not toEvery inhale lit my brain like a fuse, nostrils full of want and