- 
      The Background G
      
 A hundred people dying every day
- 
      Continental Grift
      
 Europe was never a real continent, and this is the Asian Century
- 
      The Pairs Of Perception
      
 Economy and ecosystem, production and reproduction, Apple and the apple
- 
      Reflections On Reflections
      
 Glass in my eye, blood on my soul
- 
      What Can Americans Do?
      
 Regime change starts at home
- 
      Dot-Dot-Dot
      
 A political poem
- 
      Diving The Damned
      
 The wreck of the Conch, the wreck of it all
- 
      Life After Death
      
 Like day after night
- 
      Everything Is Breaking Down
      
 and nothing will be fine
- 
      The Terrible Telegraph
      
 Just open the bloody telegraph, Out pours a litany of shit. Now put it in your pocket. You can’t get rid of it.
- 
      Every Child Is A Refugee
      
 There is a moment, When you’re asleep. When the world doesn’t trouble you or me. When your body’s so humble and weak. And it’s curled up…
- 
      Ode To An Old Dog
      
 When I walk by, just breathe out and breathe in
- 
      Fuck I’m Old
      
 A poem
- 
      Boredom, RIP (Poem)
      
 Do you remember, as a child, Looking at trees? Being bored, being at unease? Waiting for a bus, or a friend? Waiting for something to…
- 
      For A Father To Give Birth (A Poem)
      
 For a father to give birth is a lot of little things, Like remotes and water and the stuff he brings.
- 
      Woke Up Like This
      
 A poem on 16 years of war
- 
      A Facebook Poem
      
 Keep scrolling down, I promise you, beneath this line There’s something to be found
- 
      Why Humans Are Bad (A Poem)
      
 We’re asking the wrong question
- 
      Digital Addiction. A Poem
      
 Everything is possible, but I can’t seem to do shit, Before I start a train of thought, someone’s hijacked it. I start to write a poem, but…
- 
      Thank God For The Weekend (A Poem)
      
 Why it’s nice to have time off, to be on
- 
      Google Is God (A Poem)
      
 One day Google came alive It was Tuesday or Thursday No one could tell the time.
- 
      The Profit (A Poem)
      
 Once there was a boy, Born in the smallest of places With a celestial antenna in his head
- 
      The Internet Of Shit. A Poem
      
 The Internet is shit, And we all want out of it, Except we can’t, And tho we rant,
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