Pleasuring Zombies
A poem about blue-screen addiction
A conveyor-belt of zombies
Black-hole mouths agape at fluorescent light
that swims to their faces wan with disease
Their skeletal fingers clawing onto the night
to embalm what’s alive of them with recycled praise
in an alt-dimension, longing. aching to rise
with other shambling creatures in their senses frayed.
Sleep evades them like a can of caffeine-loaded mystery
Dullard birds of their imagination
Pour in a single-track trajectory
Swooning to the staccato of new notifications
Sniffing the substance of slang and emojis
razes them in the hell of self-gratification.
Over and over, they tunnel through the neon in hollowed bones
Over and over. their deadpan eyes light up in delight
Screaming toothless glee till their souls are sore
Their staged worth has become their kryptonite.
