Triad

I

We have built a blind god

I have no interest in my generation

the same sun burns me as built babylon.

We split the alter and cary it in our pockets

These kids have pulled their eyes out for sockets

As have I, the all seeing eye.

II

I dream of pixels of far reaches of the earth

As though I did not live here

And walk upon it to get groceries

Lest I die of sloth.

III

Time was a good old lady, punctual.

She died.

Her grandaughter is filling in.

She's often late.