You,

Breaking news: Brilliant photos of literally millions of galaxies unveiled by amazing new telescope that you had nothing to do with and can’t really understand

Breaking news: The entirety of the American west is in the eighth once in a lifetime drought of your lifetime

Breaking news: Progress isn’t linear and the yo-yo effect is swinging in the wrong direction and you are just a lazy millennial who wants to be an ally but can’t find the energy to wake up in the morning let alone fight the god damn system that frankly seems very complex and hard to fight and it’s all about money right lord knows you don’t have that or control lord knows you don’t have any control or is it the woke media spewing lies that convinced you that you need to be an ally and really you are just brainwashed but why are you questioning yourself are you being gaslit isn’t this the party that campaigned like less than a decade ago that your aunts can’t get married even though frankly their gay relationship seems a hell of a lot better than all the hetero ones you’ve ever been in

Breaking news: your dog has a new favorite ball that has turned into a hilarious obsession

Breaking news: the ball has been chewed to oblivion and depression is setting in as the dog stares longingly at the pieces of its whole world shattered by its own uncontrollable jaws

Breaking news: Russia threatens to turn off gas and somehow that means your loaf of bread is going to cost more

Breaking news: You are so tired

Breaking news: So is everyone else

Breaking news: your place in the world feels so so so so small

Breaking news: this is supposed to be a poem

you'll make the last few lines rhyme, that’ll show ‘em.

We'll add punctuation and some stylistic flow.

That'll help animal extinction slow,

That’ll keep the water from rising,

That’ll stop hypnotic advertising,

That’ll stop the endless scrolling,

The illegal fishing trawling,

The legal internet bully trolling

That’ll stop the glaciers melting.

That’ll stop the abusive parents from belting.

That’ll stop the war .

That’ll stop the fear .

That’ll stop the next mental health crisis from drawing too near.

This little futile poem trying to encapsulate all that I- I mean, you- hold dear.

from vanishing

That’s your place in the world,

At this keyboard, surrounded by maybe fur and maybe a little human love too.

Not comprehending it, like at all.

But damn if you don’t try

And maybe that makes it not so small,

After all,

I am trying.

I hope you are too.

Because our place in this world feels shrouded and lonely

But maybe it’s nice that we have that feeling in common.

Lost.

But together.

You these days;

not so alone after all.