blog

pensées

poems

2020s

2010s

2000s

1990s

1980s

1970s

publications


dreams

recordings

verse


books

reading list

wishlist


photos

gallery


genealogy

short tree

long tree


lagniappe

mmorpg:
Kaosmos Tunebane

mud:
Chameleon's Coed
Supper Club

DarwinTunes

web memes
linkblog


The Strangers



Everyone on earth is a stranger to me.
And the strangers are getting stranger.
Haven't you noticed?
How much stranger are you now than before?
We trust, those of us who trust,
because we must, not because others are trustworthy.
Everyone pulls away from everyone.
Everyone eyes everyone with suspicion and disappointment.
People are not as advertised.
Advertising has conditioned us to accept
even the lies that most offend us.
Every lie puts more distance between this one and that one.
I see the strangers disappearing over the horizon
and lie without lying about their motives and my prospects.

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