Phonelight
After the party is over
Awareness sets in
Like dementia’s wicked twin
The saturation of reality
Naked as the sky
Shorn of its dream of long-dead stars
Instinctively, we reach for the nearest device
Dispel the pain with dopamine distraction
Of greater pains and the coming apocalypse
So we walk, ghost-hand in ghost-hand
Into a curated future
Under the life-caul of the phonelight
We witness the end of the world
And lift only a single finger
To put it out of sight
Horror Sleaze Trash 