violent politics are penetrating my dreams.
as the angry, armed mob closes in
a loud shot
I lie in a dark limbo
startled and disoriented.
the algorithm’s gravitational pull
sucks us deeper into a dark
a blue moon has come
hasn’t been restored
(was there ever such a time?)
dichotomies are dangerous.
outside the matrix,
by the centrifugal force of their politics.
The rising tensions in the political landscape are increasingly resembling the inescapability of a dystopian narrative. QAnon ideologies have infected some I hold dear. As I feel them slipping away, I fear for them as much as I am afraid of their like-minded peers. This poem is an attempt at translating this sense of inescapability and failing morale into language.