This Machine

This Machine

A Poem by Kenneth The Poet

the children sit before the screen
as do the overgrown children

this is the new form of worship,
now the norm really four decades on

and the ones that carry the flag
that's the color of absence and
rainbow are battling over the
intellectual superiority rights
on the battleground
called the interwebs

and that's the irony right there,
professional key-strokers
demeaning the structure of
the fascist classroom and
its technological lackeys
while they themselves demean
others for being less-educated
than they are all while having been
educated in those same classrooms

arguments for or against 
are not dictations unless those 
dictations came from power positions

logic is a tool, not dogma

the population always votes,
therefore that fallacy is dismissed

and the small population of 
interweb warriors are written 
off as lost children,
intellectually incapable of
accepting reality even though
they themselves might function
productively in it

yet they themselves are under no edict
to change their ways as the voters are
under no edict to vote for any ideology
other than the ones they prefer

are the children really diminished intellectually
or are they just products of biology and environment,
tradition and stability?

does it matter since the rock we live on has been
smashed by meteors and rocked by earthquakes
before now?

the better way is the status quo and
that will be gone in the next century

this machine shall pass away as
the machines of today will wind up
on the Cantonese trash heap of tomorrow,
and as the machines called us become
the worm food and fertilizer of tomorrow

until then, the fascist classroom and
the lost children shall remain

© 2017 Kenneth The Poet


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Added on March 6, 2017
Last Updated on March 6, 2017

Author

Kenneth The Poet
Kenneth The Poet

Bismarck, ND



About
Kenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more..

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