Whitman meets Orwell(in Huxley's brave new world)
Full regalia persona piece with Whitman in the driver's seat. He put his head down in 1881 to sleep, woke up this morning. Written in his style and further stylized as him with specific words spelled has he spelled them. I wasn't going to bury Whitman, that was out of the question so I only realistically saw one other option for what Whitman would do, forced to exist in today's society the choice was clear. So in 234 words I took him from tragically depressed to Kardashian celebrity fake plastic.
I no longer celebrate myself
everyone celebrates themselves round the clock
my sight of a spear of grass is impeded
Monsanto roundup decimated the insect microcosm
I'm cast down, you should be cast down
reck'on this land is no longer free
and I reck'on men are no longer valiant
a veiled memetic facebook wave has glazed over
every man and woman's brain
nobody noticed
my Camden New Jersey dy'in place
is a militarized disgrace
when did my Brooklyn birthplace sink into the sea?
when did man trade his liberty for
television squak'in box entertain nights?
shall assume they're waiting for nano bots
to deconstruct us molecule by molecule
you shall assume we have no recourse
our molecular DNA's been copyrighted
jobs further elope
the earth's canon of double helix's are owned by a
corporate-personhood
reck'on I'll kick off my shoes
stroll into the nearest anhydrous coated field and
loafe
you shall not loafe, I'm Whitman you're nobody
non-famous lowborn folks given no ease
as we choke, chemicals scorching my lungs
I shall fly, you shall not fly
Whitman is a name to be capitalized upon
capital assets seized as I'm beginning to see it's
all about me
this dystopian panopticon is hog fat for harvest
escort me to Camden, I'm digging up my hat and
smoking pipe
going hipster and settling in posh Brooklyn
go'in cash in quick off a ghost written Whitman novel
About the Creator
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