adjacent matrices

a photo and poem by Enya De Boos.

I wish we’d met

On a polluted beach at Sunset

watched the red spoilt sky

Unfold above our plain lives

Unable to change the course of history

Bound to suffer a future

Set out by a select group of immoral giants

Reigning our souls

Blessed by the catalyst some call dinero

Immortal structures strut on the pavement of dispair

Carried by the working class referred to as filth

Undesirable pariahs gathering in silence, plotting twists but the plot won’t be twisted for it will be replaced by another until we meet mother

The dust coming from the stars

The universe gives and it takes back and now it’s giving tremors.

Has it ever given anything other?

No slay my brother

For your pronouns are not respected nor is your sovereignty protected by the settlers on the land that belongs to all and none

Its all a collective illusion orchestrated by the 1 percentile of players that logged into the game of adjacent matrices

Their tears are not ours and ours are not theirs, try being a black trans girlie in the strip without white n blue stars next to her name

Taste the “fame” you enjoy in your local community when you(‘re) “out”, there, living your dissident lifestyle, depicted as a choice

Like everything is a choice? just like the toy soldiers of the world wars chose to not be shot for mutiny

I mean

Girl did you choose to exist?