“I've seen their ways too often for my liking
new worlds to gain
my life is to survive
and be alive for you”
–Paul Kantner, Jefferson Airplane
entrapped by a box
plugged in tight
sealed in sweat
souls stuffed deeply inside these modern lives,
faking it this time
oh box,
you clench, maintain our gaze
squeeze our minds
till our red eyes chok,
till our torn throats scream:
Moloch!
trapped inside that box
no exit,
disguising obvious addiction
instead pretending
promises of a more efficient age
decadent box I choose not
it is not my soul inside
it is my face you hold!
youtube box feigning our heartbeats
trapping our breaths
so rooted
concealed inside your blackhole
Moloch grants no exit
instead, we exist in a space between
we play mutually staggering foreigners
devoid of empathy,
blind stricken prisoners dull to intimacy,
midnight grave robbers
caught stealing discarded body parts
and in that space between
Moloch box robotic thrives
a Silicon fruit box,
a Trojan Horse leaking poison cider
and Moloch presumes to fill that void
via electric battery charging off a dada googled-out sugar rush,
substituting counterfeit
multitask pseudoconversations,
distractions:
Moloch, the ultimate mind grave robber,
spirit and spiritual seducer,
hijacker of the heart!
(but oh my darlings,
there is no substitute for your sweet kind eyes
or breathing my breath
anticipating each other's heartbeat…
heartbeats are bluebirds nesting,
the Moloch sacrifice box
is no substitute
for a person here or anywhere)
so then my darlings,
unplug Moloch:
strangle its nefarious lifeline
exscind those thumbs flying across keypads
a carcinogenic madness through the night
implore your better angels
reject those boxes:
Moloch is not some sentient creature
conceived to sit by our fires
invented to embrace our hearts
created to celebrate our lives
Moloch's decadence
tricks us into make believe masters,
stricken demigods,
dizzy bewildered fools
ready to be sacrificed
and ultimately devoured by its envenomous subjugating fire
Delray Beach: May, 2016