A reactionary riff on William Blake’s “London“, reimagined as a global city with new pandemic threats.

I surf my way through virtual space
To watch a virtual Globe flow past
Graffiti eyes that brand each face:
Few brands of worth, but most scroll chaff

In every product, every name,
In every outraged visceral scene,
In every screen-shot guiltless maim
Dopamine bridles brand the screen:

Christian rage of a minimized age,
For black kids shot by pale police
For mercenary soldiers traded
For walls dripped red down White House leaks

In basement cells the subprime rent
By gigging self through rent-to-own
Zombie victim vectors in
Apps cease fire—Little Boy has grown.