last Rodeo

Apocalyptic horses

have left the barn

–too late to close that door!

Gates, too

proving once & for all the daily  Apple

didn’t keep spin doctors away after all

–with the exception of PPO’s & their fabled live receptionists–

and the ultimate Abyss looms

(already woven in time)

as the World churns

–social media froths–

glutted as Romans

disgorging from vomitoriums

–en masse—

strapping on

newsfeed

to stress-feed

the populace

–only 1% of whom

have paper to waste

–to throw into the Void

(zuck that Fuckerberg, anyway)

oh, what

Wicked

Web

Weaves

(what! what?)

in patchwork of infinite

Bermuda Triangles

–a Nowhere Land

where simply Everyone is. . .

falling in & out of holes

like

so many!

whack-a-moles

–the number 1 question

a Jeopardy stigma-

Ta!

(oh Jesus—not you)

That’s the wrong answer!

Or at least phrased incorrectly. . .

don’t you know semantics are

simply Everything?

(what is Everything?)

–are magic mantras

stirring the pot,

feeding the frenzy,

circling the schools

–Nobody entered,

yet Everyone attends

most fail. . .

are failing

–flailing about in a world gone mad

chased by horses

all too aware

of mystery meat enterprises

–a feat brought to you & facilitated & available for 2 day delivery

(by the Net)

. . .

Yes, that same Net

. . .

that Net that renders

escape

from the Abyss

–impossible.