One arm bandits come and go, Obedient robots follow their phones To the next shopping zone. For what? I don’t know. That’s between them and their phone. Juggling parcels and merchandise, With one hand on their e-device. T’other ’tached to their head. Follow orders of cybernets. This is the matrix, these are the walking dead. Someone said, “Beware! Zombie apocalypse ahead !!” This is a ‘No-go zone”, full with entanglement. Enmeshed in a clockwork mechanism Of cogs in their wheels, Tik-tok-ing endlessly in some other time zone.. A superficial reality of broken parts, and broken hearts, Steadied by ‘likes’ and ‘texts’ and ‘comments’ In attempt to keep them hypnotized, yet active, No rest for the wicked, no time for innocence, No time to rest, pay as you go, play as you go, Trying to get to the next level. Life is a video game, with pointless points, in broken lives, Everything is broken, everything is broke, stuck, broken. Some stoned simulacrum of artificial artifice, And limited intelligence, With no access to the universe of infinity. Down to an endless sea. Far as I can see… Lockdown, gridlock, predetermined infrastructure We are basically fucked, separate from our mother’s love And fed digital rations of social scores, of hive mind intelligence. Broken hearts and broken dreams, broken minds and endless screams! Echoing electromagnetic torture mode of digital increments with electrical volts, Making us dependent on addictive substances in total surveillance with control devices. This is the manifest zeitgeist in the machine, nightmares of our own internal manifestations From old traumatized machinations, from the imaginations of our old inhibitions. Death and fear, Trying to escape our suffering, all focused on one big phoney hope of paraplegic social injustice, yet Borne of unrecognizable identity attempting to find our lost inherent perpetuity, which is being siphoned and stolen from us every step of the way. Wait !! Stop !! Just turn off the switch and hit the reset slot. ~psp