Sane-ness is knowing insanity
unless one is unaware
of the bowling marbles clacking
against the grainy brick stoop
of 1984. Tweetering echoes
through the punctured drummed skin
covering the Windows screen.
Avatars swim mindlessly
through the sky-way,
collissions imminent; the death toll rises:
100,000 chirps per minute- make the nails
on a chalkboard sob in agony.
Oh, Big Brother knows what he's
doing. Double-tweets and triple-speaks
thread warp-ed-ly through our minds
until the connection is severed levitation.
Eyes melt into the screen, contracting viruses
that make us blind. Blinded scent. Blinded
sound. Blinded taste. Deafened sight.
Defeated Being. Defense-less,
Vulnerable-puppeteered by the Brother Judas
we knew of, but never knew. For
Sane-ness is knowing insanity
unless one is unaware...
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