In these black and blue red-zone days
illusion and delusion fuel each other
like blood-drunk zombies and vampires
gorging on lonely corpses’ frozen screams.

Like oligarchs fatally addicted to injections
of powdered ice and coins clogging their veins.

Hard most nights to tell love from hate.
To separate the sincere heat of human skin:
from the convincing taste of deep-fake tears,
from the artificial grin of a hacked heart.

In these designer-bubble misinformed hours
truth is a dictator draped in see-through chaos.
To laugh at what you see costs too much pain.
Better to let colors burn like winter in a fever-cooked dream.

 By Aberjhani
(“Angel of Freedom and Democracy American Latina Edition”
conceptual digital art by author utilizing OpenAi digitech)

To check out a Chat Salon literary critique of this poem, please click: Why World Poetry Day Matters Now More Than  Ever.