‘Into the Anodyne’ by Jasmine Liron

The clocks strike stagnant;
ten macabre minutes
past mundane.

Snoozed alarms shriek like
scolding ice-cubes;
habitual sirens.

Caffeine seeps dark circles
around bone-creased,
dawn eyes.

Into the anti-life

Bracketed inside an everyman’s land;
today’s horizon casts a conveyor curse.
Tomorrow is an hourglass of endless sand;
commuter carcasses atop motored hearse.

A fluorescent black hole;
cold air furnace
of yesterday.

Round backsides wedge into
sad square cubicles;
plump corpses.

The lobotomy bosses posture;
caged cretins with
oatmeal opinions.

Into the apathy

Wealth is the crutch of the white-collared shirt,
the army of shiny-suited puppets will never take
the blue-stark thrills of the gentle men in the dirt.
The grime trades daily in boardroom handshakes.

The ant-farm ambitions of
per se plebeians;
rotting upright.

Beige-blooded monuments,
nodding domino dystopia;
humdrum reverie.

Vomit-coloured tea leaves
swill chipped china;
brewing bullshit.

Into the anodyne

Hoodwinking hierarchy is a higher anarchy,
the filth-soiled empires bedrock filthier lies.
Money’s tiny scars are slave-spoiled currency;
square screens sighing under monotone skies.

You’re still here.

3 thoughts on “‘Into the Anodyne’ by Jasmine Liron

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