So where is it.

The greatest universal time on earth.

Look at us in the digital haze of glory.

Speaking

something into a tin can with a string to someone.

We wish we could meet

as the critics call melancholy.

and the capitalists sell the body.

While media knows if it

bleeds it leads

and yet the

one thing

no one knows is where

it goes

or what it does

or who really owns it

other than that moment

where you

say

this is

me…

and stars fall

rise

and moons

make stories

in the glow of a sun

too forgotten

to be allotted

other than

what we tune to

into

what we see.. a morass of

majority,