salt marsh, march
look out across the expanse tell me is that an egret or a white plastic bag trapped in the black needle rush and there, a northern harrier or a deflated balloon caught in the sycamore’s branch? after Wilde, art teaches nature her place, what is to be gleaned from all this waste? the life cycle of your candy wrapper outpaces the roman empire although their concrete still stands morton uses the same ingredient as quikrete it makes salt pour like Dolus and his clay counterfeit how long can we go substituting part for whole until we run out of feet in our empire of styrofoam cups and cigarette butts of pissed filled bottles and shit filled bags what will remain after I end the whooping crane or my green plastic pen?
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john hinckley “everything is gonna be alright” original song 105k views
low battery flash on a fading screen a plaintive man in a plaid shirt sings and the stream won’t stop bloodstained fascists with bloodstained fists small slumped bodies buried under stones black smoke over fireorange skies Images hold meaning until they don't what image do you hold of reagan’s would-be-killer? or is it just a flicker of jodie foster playing an alcoholic cop? time isn’t a flat circle it’s video, ads you can’t skip no matter the cost now hit play hear a tin voice til screen turns black a glass & metal brick gone cold in your hand now what do you see?
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We are disrupting the war crimes space
We are constantly innovating new ways to kill you We are fine tuning our aural assault weapons We are dialing in the algorithm We are listening and learning We are harvesting your organs We are destroying your crops We are only half paying attention We are under a lot of stress We are behind on our shows We are just looking forward to the weekend We are putting some money aside for a rainy day We are avoiding certain streets We are avoiding certain countries We are avoiding anyone different We are avoiding dissent We are suppressing dissent We are setting up fair elections We are queuing up to vote We are the silent majority We are presenting you with several options We are constantly improving our interface We are very sorry that happened to you, personally We are sending a care package We are sending our thoughts and prayers We are sending our best and brightest We are sending the marines We are the marines We are making inroads in enemy territory We are in the room with you right now We are the room We are the right We are the now, Now who are You?
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ZACHARY SMITH is a writer from Cleveland now living in the greater Boston area. His poetry has appeared online in Prolit Magazine and the short film he co-wrote, Aea, can be found on vimeo if you need to occupy yourself for fifteen minutes.