I contemplate
setting it all to
Off
(even my
rum scuttle of thoughts
from toils)
By cutting connections
to swealing news
on my device
By undoing clicks
to remove agitation
and find a hermitage –
perhaps a bolted
space
with my tumbler locks
We cannot blunt their knives
We cannot nullify politicians
of any kind –
they who
make us into banshees
and howl monkeys
When that switch
is flicked
you will not hear me