The bubbles we inhabit

are not merely empowered to separate us from discerning fact and fiction.

They separate us from debate; civic discourse; meaningful conflict;

From coalition-building; compromise; concession.

They separate us from each other.


Communities seem quaint

Common ground, a shifting place

Quicksand beneath one's feet

We are all swamp things now

The eyes ogle, waiting for us to falter -- for sport


Our shelf lives grow ever shorter

While billionaires transfuse the blood of the young

The youth don't want my mid-life crisis

It bores them so

My tone grates on America's next greats


Ideologies wage the fifth world war out on the vast placeless social media savannah

Faux fantastical beasts feast upon felled paper tigers

One can only hope the most outsized egos

Are the biggest dinosaurs

When the meteor comes