You say we can no longer postpone this conversation – stop.
It is the action you postpone. You say you condemn
the authoritarian algorithm, the racketeering,
TRINET authorship of the Brave New World.

But here you are, at the well again, justifying your dipping cup;
yours is of good intentions, of family need,
of responsibility to the information wheel
that feeds the hand that beats us.

When does the addict realize the addiction? It is the nightmare
that I pen down on my pages each morning. Is there
a trick of the light that a muse might deploy
to entice a hungry soul to fasting?

If I was 100 stories tall, I would tip the dynamo into the chasm.
Let the inception have it back, for I’m no longer
an apostle of the interconnected human. The alarm
of my heart when I saw the horizon turn to stone –

I never thought a window could be a blindfold.