Platitudes
Erasing the past rest of the day I spent before the same faces,
minute by minute and once and again,
I come from nowhere to read Nothing has changed,
a story about the glory of Do it yourself.
A farce from the beginning, gibberish till the end,
for nobody cares for what others say.
So they only hear about themselves,
while thinking what they’ll be saying next.
Just do it is the frame of this long trail of threads,
conceived by the headlines of these days:
“Originality falls victim to general abuse”
of ordinary minds dreaming of an ideal cyber-look.
Barbies of the intellect seeking to seem subtly complicated,
intricate, entangled and beautifully jaded.
Life is never enough for their spiritual hunger,
smooth and pristine show of anger.
Cherishing aesthetic patterns of up-to-date exemplary morals,
They remind me of yesterday’s powder puff
passed around among amusing hints to law-breaking actions,
followed by their appropriate closing chuckles.
Copyrights owned by a crowd of stiffened hearts
feeling the same at the same time.
Telepathos working at high speed,
feedback appreciated that nobody really reads.
I wonder, I wonder… How else could this be?
