..from Measuring Gravity By Grace.. The P.C. EaTS mY bRAIN


The P.C. eats my brain,
the corpses in the living-room
nod awake: another nerve expires.

I do not complain.
Such fantasies of doom
fail to aid the other liars.

You think you are satisfied
with what’s electric; your city
friends, and their mutual hatred.

This is no more than
speculation:
few rise to it, though you try.

Pull back the covers: even
your skeleton
stays cold and still and naked.

©Dean Baker

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deanjbaker

author of more than 20 books of poetry, prose, and satire http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM

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