Post-Neology

Time keeps changin’,
but the times stay stuck,
The clock reads midnight,
But we’re the ones,
Twelve times struck.

The new old Mason–Dixon line,
sold by means of a
major fifth, doubly compromised,
Empathy on one side,
The other (un)just silence and pride,
separating the half-whole,
all hurtin’ too much,
and those holier-than fucks,
burnin’ out their luck.

A dumbed-down tale,
as old as dark timelines,
clear as day,
morality stark as black and white.

But today’s clocks,
ain’t concerned
(quite so much )
about black versus white,
even though that’s how
Our fake hate,
Like American cheese,
first learned to fight.

Now these powers-that-be,
( scared-of-not-being)
draw invisible lines,
tightening slow,
a coldly calculated noose
Unloosed on any hopeful neck.
Cut your legs out from under,
Leave you no where to go.

This round, though?
Bet.
Woke eyes will realize
our sides have been split,
like Christ on a cross,
between Lucy’s sweet lullabied,
dead-eyed babies dreaming,
and awoken souls like Adam,
shining cross night’s bright sky,
drowning out
their damn Morningstar’s cry.

“Jesus, can’t you just fucking empathize?”

Time won’t stop ragin’,
The lines have been drawn
The curses all cast
The slow losers now
Will later lose fast,
As the present bows:
The gift already past