ᐧI saw the inflorescence of my generation destroyed,
Disappeared willingly into pulsing bright dings of pseudo pleasure
Yet I could only mourn the passing powdery catkins
Swaying sugary as the sharp March winds
Jangled them empty on still dark leaf mulch
Does it shock you that I obsess over spring?
Does it tear you apart to see the catkin so sweet?
Crushed beneath my soft fingertips
Whilst the nanobots schemed palaces
Of our doomed electric pulses.
Mark Zuckerberg (aka @EustaceTwigg)