The Government is Lying to You and Trying to Kill You (or, I Tried to Write an Aubade but Wrote This Instead)
If the government doesn’t kill me
I’ll choke on my own bile
Alone, forsaken, reviled.
In the Springtime of My Dystopia
There were signs. There were warnings.
We were too in love to pay much attention.
It was merely some background noise,
some clatter, inconvenient clutter.
What were those politicians droning on about?
Overly made-up talk show hosts harping on about
nonsense, trivialities, invented crises.
Grown men wearing the flag like a toga
or burning it in acts of performance art largesse.
People stop believing in permanence because permanence stopped believing in them.