Ludic Convulsions

When your world
falls apart,
and all that’s left
for you are selfies,
and photos of
your food
my memories will
be imprinted
in wood
stone,
and the
electrified participants
coming together in prophecies
strung to the spinning nebulae,

hypoxia starving along,

remarks published
to social walls – the fake ones
that call the world yesterday,
while tomorrow waits
to play the game of chrome,

roaming,

but never seeing
the complexities of
forever between
what’s vomited
into the winds

© Phen Weston and Christopher Rupley 2016

(This is a long overdue poetic collaboration with my good friend, and creative sparring partner, Phen Weston. Make sure and check out his very eclectic body of work by clicking here). 

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