The grid
The long leash
The internet satellite signal
Lo-jack chip behind the ear
Just beneath the scalp
Setting alpha brain waves out of phase
To control the impulse
Weaken the will
Enable the “reach out
And jump through your ass”
Give up your life
Forsake family and friends
To satisfy a customer
With no face or feelings or purpose
Other than to ensure your every thought
Is consumed with anxiety
And concern over how to bring in
Another few delectable morsels
Of gross margin points
To fatten the bottom line
Of the machine
The queen machine
The god machine
The “our purpose serves the greater good”
Far beyond picayune personal proclivities
To procure a pusillanimous pittance
A pauper’s puny perfidy
Our goal is to make the magnanimous
Mother machine
Crank out cookie-cutter encryptions
Devoid of character
Motivated to mollify the moods
Of the machine
There is the mystery
The code un-cracked
That we would succumb
To such subjugation and slavery
Ever wired to the grid
Shamefully submitted to such stark disclosure
Of all that we hope and are
For fear that the mindless motions
Of the monster magneto
Somehow spins with greater speed
Than our simple insignificant aspirations
Or primal human needs