Web of Sins

 

Here in the public domain
wherever you are
is where you are at...

In this connected age
we are forever in camera range..

Our character assassination coordinates
are constantly subject to mass posting

by roving cyber voyeurs

seeking to mass distribute

their best "gotcha moment" 

Our lives now open books
so take heed

about those private transgressions

formerly safely performed out of sight

 

Shell Game

 

All my fault lines..

Deeply contained..

Self restrained..

Stone exterior
must be maintained..

One crack
and my self constructed wall
of formerly reliable repressions

comes crumbling down..

Amidst the smoldering rubble

glowing beneath my feet

peeps would finally see me
as I really am...

Scary as this fresh exposure may be

in the long run it ain't so bad 

The Illusion Rules

Skating on frozen pond
as the snowflakes dance...

A true Dickens scene..

We escape into the dream
even though we know
nothing is as it seems...

For the snow is really
asbestos corn flakes
shaken vigorously..

Truth reduced to special effects..

A soothing opiate that suspends disbelief..

These illusions we do create
in this snow globe reality...

Just desperate performance art..

Impossible to sustain

as a permanent residence

Thread Sense

When nothing fits
we make the best of it..

If everything is frayed
gotta fret not bad impressions..
 
Eventually the elastic
on which we so rely
loses it's clingy quality..

Fashion should never be a fuss
nor should it ever define us

Drag Drama Queens

On the brink of elimination..

No respite from the tension
of this perilous situation..

We the dwindling legion
of anti social evolution zealots
know that time is the enemy
as the forces of progress
breach our entrenched position..

Perhaps we have one
desperate counterattack left
in our grievance arsenal..

History has come to bury us
but we are not without resources
and a passionate cadre of useful idiots