415 – Choke

Purple pixel lotus
Swaying to the rhythm
Of alternate current
And digital heartbreaks.

Screaming afterburners
Propelling our consciousness
Down the deadly spiral
Of alternative facts.

Pedal to the metal
All the way down.
No time or need
For course or destination.

A self-devouring machine
Barreling thru living flesh
With no throttle, choke,
Or engine cutoff.

This was not an answer.
Or perhaps it was…
Maybe we just asked
The wrong question.