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you make me
sick.
your voices are so fake,
like an audio representation 
of a barbie doll.
perfect. painted-on.
bubbly and happy. 
        unreal.
you are paid to be
encouraging.
but i wonder.
do you not notice
    the pain
around you?
does it stop
at the studio door?
do you not hear the 
distant drumbeats
ushering in
the end of time?
the world is coming
to a close
    and all i can see
is the plastic texture
of your words.

      be wary. 
you cannot ignore
the way the earth is shaking
                forever. 
--5.6.18