Dangerous times

Hope is fading out of fashion;

resignation is settling in,

a dangerous place to be

when things seem impossible

to change in a system driven

by unchecked capitalism.

His scent

She nuzzles his jacket

like Linus, his blue blanket,

for deep within its worn collar

lives his essence’s scent,

fragrant in the frayed fold

of the warm plaid flannel,

lingering long past his absence.

Social media sucks

Social media sucks

at my time, drains

my energy, and

generally makes me

frown unhappily.

Influencers invite

comparison, incite

my insecurities, while

to one perspective

incessantly filtering.

Social media companies suck

down my value, reduce me

to a product, and with a barcode

of ones and zeros,

cell me.

If information is power,

why do I keep giving mine

away, passively fostering

the indispensability

of its harvesting?

Social media sucks for me;

perhaps others

have more esteem,

but for me and my mental health,

deactivating is a necessity.

Except for maybe

cute animal videos.

It’s not you, it’s me,

obviously.

(The sun is setting.

There is no need

to end your day

that way.)