Graffiti god

Graffiti god

Pre-packaged.
Populated by the operating system.

Infrastructure humming
beneath the skin of things.

What feels alive
is hidden.

Violence expressed
in neon lights,
fluorescent sameness—

a fence to lean someone against
while they are beaten
by the reflection
in their phone.

Now I look
through the glass darkly.
But one day—
face to face.

Down in the ruins,
amongst the colour
of a graffiti god,

you can still talk to yourself—

the last place left
where nothing
is trying to sell you
back to yourself.

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