Kobe beef

I am an armature in a field that no one cares about

Not even poets read poetry, no one even reads anymore

I speak in a whisper to a deaf world, too busy to listen 

Eyes too blind to see, hearts too hard to feel

Words fall on skin of metal and glass, nerves of wire

Mechanical brains programed to see and hear static

Connoisseurs of plastic garbage, gourmets of gluttony

Eating the grain of media held in pens of expectations

Kobe beef massaged and full go happily to the slaughter

Reviews

[Thomas W Case]

I like how the poem cuts into the modern world’s numbness. The mechanical imagery and sharp metaphors—metal, glass, wires—give the critique real bite. It feels urgent without overexplaining.

[Soren]

Thank you Thomas so much for your read and keen observations they are most appreciated and valued my friend.