Poem: "A Position of Defeat 26"



26.

the sun a bit of deep programming code
swivels its suspect electronic eye
logging on at hotspots to its wifi
i give away my bearings on the road

wired to love what’s good, i love
to stir my stick in a man’s shithole
and submit to the sun’s social control
though wired to fear what i know not of

a reproductive program gone rogue
at school i am still gainfully employed
to vaccinate the young by being paranoid
of what is in vain and what is in vogue


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