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An abstract, cynical rendition of the state of modern popular culture. |
| Reality A spider’s web of spotlights Criss cross here and there Ensnaring those who seek them out To bathe within their hungry glare A nest of wretched spiders Undernourished, incomplete Prey across the criss cross network Play their roles so well. Replete Replete of their desires Aspirations in the clouds Ignoring solid ground beneath them As heaven lays unbound Unbound, illuminated By constellations of the stars Ensnared upon much brighter threads On an inky canvas, sparse Harnessed by their freedom Narrowed by their range Reliant on their own consumption By such creatures they estrange Still, they chose to be there Allocated parts within a play Everybody has their roles Web spinners, Spiders... Prey |