rhetoric running rampant

from the keyboards of us online kings,

experts of every field of nothing,

worshipped in territories of boredom.

sleepless ignorance lace senseless words

joined by senseless pictures:

a stupid splash on the rocks,

like that wave inbetween Waves,

trying to be what it isn’t to be an is.

virtual platforms froth with pleas for attention:

we foam everything up to form a something that never was a “be.”

i hate pretention,

but i guess we all need to put up with

a little of this kind of strange shit to be

a little art-is-tic.

a strange kind, we Web-bed ones are:

ever-consuming, with appetites rarely consummated…

always critical, absently un-caring.

running to the arms of hearts, reply’s and reblog’s,

what questions do we have to fear

in OUR domains of cyberspace?

naysayers will be delete-button’ed.

who knew buttons could be so political?