We are Met with Silence (a poem)

I. Relativity

Have you noticed?
The homeless population is increasing
In the LA tent encampments
Surrounded by luxury cars
They plan to change the world
They are our only hope

At night, they bake beans over trash-can fires
Tell stories of their downfalls
And imaginary triumphs
Then they cuddle up in their tents
And scream into the void
They are met with silence

Have you noticed?
The moral relativity and specificity?
What matters to me
Doesn’t matter to you
What matters to you
Doesn’t matter to me

We argue vehemently
We yell at sweaty school board meetings
You rip off my mask and tell me
The virus isn’t real
I tear down your stars and stripes, tell you
Patriotism is a sham

Finally, we are so tired
We go back home
Turn on the TV
And scream into the void
We are met with silence

II. Modern Soul

My Instagram feed is a direct line
Into the modern soul
And it fills the hole in my heart
I stare at the blue screen as I lay in bed
Then I am spoon-fed content that
Makes me equal parts
Horny, happy, and helpless

I put my phone down
Look around
I turn on the TV primarily
For the sex and violence
Then I scream into the void
I am met with silence

We took a vacation to a parallel universe
And on the dirty beach, we saw the corpse
Of God, heavy and huge like a beached whale
We held a vigil and told ourselves everything
We thought we wanted to hear
Some shed a few tears
Then we screamed into the void
We were met with silence

III. Luxury and Community

In the ritzy hotel
The rich men have stories to tell
Of their conquests in silk sheets
Of their call girls and stunning feats
They drink the finest liquor
They leave the masses to bicker
Then they scream into the void
They are met with silence

In the community center
The walls are moldy
And the children told me
Depression comes at earlier ages now
They admit they feel down
Because they are bombarded with
Too much mass media they can handle
They bounce their basketballs
They stumble through the halls
Then they scream into the void
They are met with silence

In the Rose Garden, the president puts on
His serious face, tells us everything
Will be okay – then he goes behind doors
Laughs and admits he has no morals
And he screams into the void
He is met with silence

IV. Extinguished

On our death-beds
We regret things we said
And what we never did

There’s no one there to hold our hands
Except the robot nurse and the Rabid Man
Things just didn’t go according to plan

The lights of consciousness begin to dim
We think the chances of Heaven are slim
And our tired bodies extinguish
We fall into the void
And we are met with silence

(Photo by Alexis Fauvet on Unsplash)