what if
what if
what if they change the schools artificially, prompted by need, not an obvious blow. Turned them in to makerbots, butcher/baker bots. But no, they’ll rule them to supremacy, a road laden with those fallen behind.
Imagine the school reworked so tense, immense anxiety, Kids herded like sheep for a week till the resources wear out and life gets back to normal
. Absent children on iPads, covi-toes ain’t enough to let you skip school
( use for pendameter, not my idea)
Taking the social aspect out, could it be the end of communal learning forever.
Absolutely not, but we’re all ticking time bombs on the line with something dangerous.
Strange this wonderful world I see, sad it takes the worst to bring out the best in history, It’s June 5th 2020, 8:20 at night. i want ice cream
but instead I smoke a cigarette and sit out side reading relevant garbage, wondering where the time has gone, but more so, how it will go.
A good poet friend would tell me to butt out.
This unrehearsed universe, the concepts implied and the chance and the change, still Genx fearing numbers, still millennial trying to help myself to a piece of pie, working hard to provide, to have a home to call my own, one day.
Bot what when the communes and gulags take place. Is there any hope for the human race?
We cannot contain the power of children, which will apparently amaze.
physical distances and social adherence, given glares when you sneeze, The children of the twenties partied to the great depression, somethings got to give, we have to clear out the powers.
Or will it devour them whole. Children of the depression built America, the ones that survived. They saw the danger and stood on guard for thee. Now we let their Unions crumble, these legacies they left to us, an offer of a better life if you are willing to work for it.
Disrespectful children at the table.
Maybe their not wrong to bubble wrap the little insurance risks.
Streamline and monitor their social interactions, why expose the wimps to bullies.
drop down sneeze shield, everyone looks like salad, I’m 35.9 degrees. No summer school with no air conditioner
The death of one is a tragedy, the death of 398,129 is just a statistic.
So what are we hoping when we open, a return from industry overseas? Will need robots to man the factories, and the man will program it. What’s a girl to do in the 21st century?
Never been a lady on the moon, or a person of colour. Should be an exciting few years coming, as Bob and Doug float overhead.
Restrictions are coming to our freedoms, this wild parade finite teetering the brink of disaster, not as infinite as it thinks.
Grinding teeth more as society offers. Head on my pillow willowing away. Can’t say what tomorrow will hold, but I’m damn well done with today.
