Waking Up in a Holiday Inn

We are so willing to click in and go for the ride.

Neurons firing and off we jettison

into yet another collective illusion 

while the god of Abraham, bless his heart, 

calls it good.

It’s all good.

The miracle of bodies in time and space.

Damn the consequences as, 

iPhone in hand and television cranked,

we stride out blinking, blind as moles,

into fractured rays of the sun’s early light, 

ignorant of it having risen 

in the utter stillness of earth’s rotation 

around a fiery halo. 



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