A slow afternoon. The sweet smell of the evening. On shore breeze overhead. A second wind slows over blooming hills, it becomes a blanket of air to keep out the chill. We’re all warm, docile, and still. And still we remember our reminders and alarms. It’s a nice excuse to look down and pocket check the phone. Wouldn’t you know we’re at war, it’s called total war. Always the same explanations, myths and lore. Thousands of miles of front lines, but none at our back door. Rushing to work, and rushing home. Changing lanes, it’s all the same so settle in. A smoggy tranquility wraps the traffic. The speakers drone on scanning ASMR static. America’s team caught cheating again. There were shotgun mics on the sidelines sounding closer than the stands. Drop the can attached with wire, send DM’s to the end of the aisle, friends: It’s hard to believe we’re at war perpetually. Life seems the same for everyone around me. Young and old, city and country people check Nixle religiously for an APB or emergency. The devil’s working behind every clickable stop. Pulling strings so the spending won’t stop. Almost broke and blind to the tether, the puppets turn on one another. We’ve already turned on each other. All so busy, oh so busy. Dancing with shows to make it all feel real. Focus all our attention on magnificent diversions. You’d hardly know we’re at war all over the world. Fighting the same fights since our flag was first unfurled. It’s costing fortunes, mortgages on oceans. The blind can see the end is coming soon. Tonight we’ll invade some place I’ve never seen. It won’t make the papers since we kept it all real clean. Endless progression. Imperial implosion is right outside, knocking, knocking.