|
This ainâ??t Cheers, baby, but everybody knows your name |
*dedicated to this social network*
a nest of furies torching anonymous faces postage stamp small,
engulfed by torrid words blazing their good name, a hotbed of
slander where you can fuck ‘em and leave ‘em in an afternoon
saloon where aging lounge lizards loiter, networked in the dark,
carving rejection and perfidy from the heart of disinterest,
cold steel slicing, reptile quick licks over delicious wounds inflicted
on those they once called friend
An arctic techno world, where gossip is good
(as long as it’s not about you!),
character is consigned to cartoons gracing time, innuendo
morphs into implication, hell hath no fury like a man scorned,
and women will shank you in the back
with a burning blade of betrayal
A crowded venue housing the envious loudly lauding success
in sing-song insincerity—
(Glory Be! Hallelujah!)
while damning it to hell in a single breath
It’s Happy Hour all day, all night, a locale overflowing poisons
penned over the fallen; nothing is real, everything is real
and the nefarious mingle with the sublime beneath the heads
of stiffs hung on the walls of carnage; where everything
and anything goes, where everybody thinks they know your name –
but really, know nothing at all
copyright 2013
Alicia
Winski |
