I will not return to the 21st century
It passes like, a rainbow of extinction events
A collapse of humanity, in an era of machines.
I do not hope to return to streetlights of history,
To be swallowed by a false immersion
The stagnant streaming of those half-lives.
I don’t miss the freedom from the tribe, nor
The ruthless hedonism of those years
They felt so fragmented among the growing shadows.
I will not return to the marketplace where dreams died
In uncertainty, and lives shriveled in dire isolation —
I am not well suited to the times, I am wayward with
The anxiety of the zeitgeist, it drills into me with cold tears
I don’t have the patience to watch it till the end
Of my brief and biological years, like a simulation.
Because, I already know how it ends, I know the spirit of the apocalypse —
I don’t need to ask for directions, to dystopia.
I’m well ahead of the times in dreaming,
Obstinate and infected by Black Mirror thoughts.