Y2K25: A Collection of 21st Century Anxiety

Reality TV

At first, I don’t understand the evil in front of me,
he laughs and gropes me on the shoulder.

He forcefully grabs my hand and holds it to the sky.

I am promised a lie.
Freedom on one condition, 

my tears for their entertainment.

There are exactly 1776 of us,

some significance I do not care for.

My home is ashes now,

there will be nothing left if I lose.

We are sent out into the country in which
I am desperate to find a home.

Friendly competition

turns to fighting off camera. 

Eventually they broadcast it,

the first death happens.

Why do they not stop?
Am I no longer human? 

Time passes and our numbers dwindle,

I am liked and crowned victor.

I am groped again and handed a certificate,

the grin on his face haunts me. 

He giggles at that moment,

I am human no more. 

I will never be human again,
I am an American.

I will not find my freedom here. 

The Meadow

The trees are shifty
In that meadow of dreams
Rest your weary head. They say,
The war is over
But it’s just begun 

The birds tweet surreptitiously.
Cowardice ensues
The lip of the forest curls
Causing darkness in the daylight
Obscuring the critters
From that harbinger of pain 

A battle’s end
Instigates the next
The smell of gasoline
Permeates the forest once more
An undefined hand grips the can
A formed face grins 

The trees will crash and whine
they will beg for serenity
That meadow so often does

It will not be heard
The formless evil takes a match
To that meadow of sleep

The meadow is burning
Yet there is nothing we can do. 

As is the cycle 
Of that ever-shifting meadow 

The Veil

What’s left beyond the veil?

That shimmering barrier that clouds our sky

He was supposed to save us all on Mars

But like all rich men he lied

Newsflash

Donald Trump is the 47th President
Starmer echoes rivers of blood
The IDF perfects laughing at dead kids

Reform gains 617 racists
Musk is the DOGEFather

Zelenksy doesn’t own a suit

Supreme Court rules against empathy
Pope meets Vance and promptly dies
America sneezes, the world catches a cold

Y2K25

There’s a white noise

playing at the back of my mind

it wants for nothing more

than me to submit 

and give up.

I stream the day’s theme tune

whilst closing my eyes 

covering my ears

pretending the truth is sweeter

than the darkness beneath.

The noise does not leave me.

The chorus strengthens. 

The words form in my mind.

The feeling is terminal. 

The fireworks lit for Y2K25. 

I watch a video of a cat
in a country which I have never visited. 

I will never be able to

cradle this digitally enclosed creature. 

The little terror falls off his tree, I laugh. 

Psh-krrr-krr-tsh-ch-ch-ch

Nothing masks that it’s louder yet again.

Nothing makes it go away. 

Nothing will save me. 

I am drowning in the white noise.