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The Music



We, semi-autonomous,
constantly coming up against the limits
of what we know,
of what we want to know,
clashing with the coalition of the naive
and the malicious, disenchanted by
our irreconcilable similarities,
each adjacent moment oxymoronic,
caress the carcass.

Subvert the status quo, they say,
pointing at it with pride.
Let's see what you've got.
Give us what we've not.

Can you hear the music in the shrieks?

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.