NO ONE BLINKS (a poem)

Saturday, April 19, 2025

The machines slump—
repeat,
requisite—
a requiem of a dream,
a recursive loop
to let another
measure more.

Burp crude vapors
back on mother.
Make her take
the abuse.

Absorption,
shock,
penetration
of juvenile industries—
plumb the depths,
leave the site unkempt.

Plow and till.
Break the core open.
Give it a seed.
Make this space ours.
Set up sentries.
Keep going.

The furnaces,
the compute,
the consumption,
the cost—
to launch a rocket
for a selfie,
for a what?

This is madness.
A madness mechanized.
A few steps from the slain—
and now it’s clean.

Sterilize by diffusion.
Dissolve clear blame.
A media shroud—
we can’t see
what’s going on
in there.

Action.
Action.
Unchecked action.
And no one blinks.