The person moping down the street
talking to himself the whole way
is really on his device
chattering on matters of no consequence.
The phrases I hear are made-to-order.
He is out of doors – be assured
he will cause us no trouble,
as he passes ancient cedars
unaware of them as well of us.
We’ve surpassed other empires gone,
yesterday’s bread and circuses.
Disposable (soon) as paper cups
the masses do have their place
though they must be constantly watched.
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