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The machinations of modern man

Flaccid men
Prance around
In woollen suits
And starched souls…
Yet
Their glittery eyes
Speak of a
Fragility…
So far removed
From the
Man within;
Their bells and
Whistles make
Disclaimers and
Declare that no
Such thing exists…
And
As each year
Transpires
More threads
Are lost
Until there is
No way left
For him
To return…
The unravelling complete;
The soul no longer knows
The self…

20th November

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The machinations of modern man by 


when i go to the city i see these suited men
this is a jot inspired by them…

My images and writing are unfiltered or edited. i just shoot the photos, create the pictures and the words come from somewhere inside without much if any thought or consideration.
My desire is that they might effect someone in a positive way…
A footnote… I’ve explored PS with cars…!

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Comments

  • Philip DeLoach
    Philip DeLoachover 1 year ago

    Great poem su2anne! It tells the story of modern made who has gained the world and lost his soul. He wandered too far into the propaganda and materialism.

  • thank you Philip…
    i feel very strongly about this

    – su2anne

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