“Fugue State”

“Fugue State”

All of a sudden,

somehow,

detachment is necessary for survival.

Topsy-Turvy,

sailor’s scurvy.

There’s no one in the crow’s nest.

Uncharted course approaching,

at breakneck speed.

Seasick,

Netflix and spill,

your guts over the Starbucks side.

Waves are swelling.

But, if you focus on the horizon,

a tidal wave is building,

Momentum gathering at a point.

When will it get here?

Waiting on the coastline for a Tsunami is tremendously boring.

A great scourging purge will claim the abomination we dreamt,

and teach us new universal truths.

Wandering, faces aglow.

The aroma of Huxley’s soma,

drawing us further into ourselves,

without hope of surfacing for air.

It was tech’s JOBS, to imprison us behind the GATES.

Barbarians are we, gates or not.