Pretend
Looking down, it thought.
Past the body it was responsible for,
one leg raised, kicked out,
moving sharply, by slavish reaction.
And all the while the dream continued….
With robotic scanning,
feet waltzed, legs lumbered.
One eye for sense, another losing emotions,
down through an new old system,
shaken into stirring.
Armour plate gauntlets rattled,
bullet for bullet money spinners,
and the sky got lower.
Outside, hell or heaven churned,
depending on vista, or screen name,
water fell in streaming sheets
bucket by bucket.
Again the eyes took hold,
forcing imaginary soaked limbs
to venture this half-life game.
Who was in charge, really?
America warred online,
and any stray mercenary, could join in and learn,
Russia to Iraq to Afghanistan,
to well…that desperado nutter,
each college seems to own.
Yet as we dive deep and clean,
still a mile too young,
into each pond-like internet trail,
how close to tomorrow is,
this make believe
holocaust world?
poem by Jerry Pike
Added by Poetry Lover
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