The Reality of Reality
By Poets Anonymous
It was one of those self indulgent
moments...
"What IS Reality…?"
but then I watched the Matrix… Reality
was a Cadillac Commercial, marketing
our sense of rebellion-
Making sure we don't rise…
Who do you think got the job for
reality inventor? Was there a bidding
war between G.E. and Clear Channel?
Was it said in whispers down the hall,
information with required membership…
Did they make me crave that Reeses?
Answers become circles, the meaning of
each line ironed out, losing meaning-
forgetting feeling, like the girl in
E.T., and-
“that Barrymore just bounced right
back, didn’t she…”
See all is redeemable! Like that coupon
I got at Ralphs! Or Blockbuster late
charges- (if I smile long enough)
Learning ways of turning on and off…
Bored with curiosity unsatisfied.
The unexplored meticulously
classified.
My pictures painted from someone else’s
dreams-
Or greeds.
My voice cracks in search of free… and
sometimes I can’t even fuckin’ sing.
Sometimes, I’m stuck in between the
lines of righteousness and stupidity.
Unable to control what I know I have to
be. Hiding behind my immaturity-
masking my path with what’s easy.
Silence precedes… darkness weeps. I am
weak.
“So, what’ on TV?”
