June 20, 2026

the content of our content
matters less than the
clicks it amasses
and i guess i’m just too tired
to care about algorithms and
search engine optimization and
making myself into a brand or whatever

i’ve only been around thirty-some-odd years
but i feel as though i’ve lived a hundred of those
[and yet i only have the total memory of like five,
so interpret all my complaints however you will]
so i’m not going to waste my time with clickbait
and playing a game for an entity i think
could bring good
but is currently
absolutely
not

i’m not against the internet
i’m against how it’s being used and utilized
by the vulture class

[might i not actually be against capitalism, but instead
against how it’s being used and utilized
and structured and exploited
by the vulture class, too?]

[maybe at its basest definition

but capitalism has changed meanings
as it means now — accumulation of wealth for the wealthy
by feeding off consumerist culture
and the only way it stays stable is to
grow
fast
exponentially —

i’m definitely against all that.]

but a tirade against capitalism isn’t how this poem started
[that is how many of my poems end]

i’d love to be assessed for the content of my content
not the number or type or flashiness of the thumbnail

[though, in the end, we’re all left screaming into the void
and the void never ever
calls back]

January 2, 2026

down that coffee
chug that water
sprint down the stairs and
get ready for the day ahead
today
today
it will be
a day

[still kind of on
vacay
and spending time with kip
continuing traditions
and making new
and just do it
just get excited
and run run outrun the seasonal
depression
slowly invading your
head]

~~~

how come
this past
holiday season
i was unable to find
any
goddamn
candy canes
[of the candy cane flavor
variety]
?

[i found plenty
of skittles-flavored candy canes
and candy cane flavored
other things
but absolutely
zero
candy cane flavored
candy canes]

where did they all go?

has capitalism forced creativity
beyond our human wants and desires?

probably.

almost
definitely.

[well, at least our ai overlords
can enjoy the absurdity of our
‘ingenuity’
atop our burning bodies
after the world catches on fire
and the only water left
not contributing to coastal flooding
is being fed to them]

~~~

the problem
the problem
the problem is
i know
i know
i know our apocalypse
will be
so
so
so
slow

we won’t see it coming
we won’t acknowledge it here

we’ll just keep hoofing it to work
and buying our bagels
as our eyes slide past
broken infrastructure
and bodies in the street
until we’re about to be the body
and by then
it’ll be
too late
[and another person will walk past you
pretending
everything
everything
everything
is normal]