poem : Intelligence Minister

A cinched waist, tightened with insecurity.

Diaphragm breath constrained under the eyes of those

who would rather author a suicide identity.

my caption

they collectively

communicate in binary.

Eliminate nuance.

Plastic, filtered, censored, tied up in earshot.

Eyesight blurred, unheard words.

Deaths in digital wastelands.

.

Always the weapon given from

who prefer civilized.

Humanity grips onto what hasn’t worked.

We damage our progress

bypassed,

as if we were smart enough to learn.

.

Here they are, colonizing words

with cancel culture?

Because they know better?

Because they want to ban the writer?

.

Dangerously close to a dictator,

buying the rights to The Exposer

an Intelligence Minister,

proselytizing an artificial silencer.

.

they are the digital equivalent of an executioner,

cutting the vocal cords of truth seekers.