Poem: "My Postmortem"

I.

So tell me, when exactly was it
Not the dark times? We’re not new
To epidemics of spiritual bypassing
And the blind projection of shadows.

Everyone here is wearing their faith
Like face tattoos but can’t even
Pronounce their own names,
Much less speak for the collective.

II.

Okay then: the idiotic infographics
Have finally been taken down.
Let us seize the day and compose a
Brand new book of the dead!

In which the righteous finally will
Conjure heavens of their choosing,
At long last liberated from owing
Their souls to the company store. 

 
M. Bogen
November 2024