C.W. Bleu

This Bitter Frequency

 

Grievous loss of life went
Unnoticed some time ago.
No alert.
Wrecked city—
Amber afterglow.

Morning traffic:
Muted.
Billboards flicker’n fog.
The hiss of
A battered culture.

Digital static
   Reminding us
      The times we forgot.

A ghost on the sidewalk—
A name unread.
Life hurts,
Background dissonance.

This hiss
We can’t fix.
The post
Unread.
The voice 
  Buried

      In the depths.

Distortions of
   Harmonic content,
      Your tune
      A tragic hiss.

I’ll preserve your heart,
And keep its beat alive.
To kill the dance—
It would be a tragic lie.

Until we free this bitter world
   Of vice
      And kings.

Digital static persists.
   The hiss
      Desires
      Needful things.