the milky way of touch screens

we the fervent watchers
in purest white vestments
stapped into cockpits
rotated by satellites
offer over all geographical points
ritual sacrifices
that are sent and re-sent
through the milky way of touch screens


--mm noverilli


you collect in black flocks
in the first two pews, a watering
hole in justice's jungle.

the ties are different, scallopped
around necks thick, necks thin.

heads of all different sizes, feathers
preened and brylcreamed. you know
the rituals and priests  intimately, gather
on the golf courses exchanging golden
strokes for calves. .

at the altar, the dark priest delivers
offers, rules on redress and grievance.
the spoils were baked backstage
all that's left is the presentation and green
splattered platter. the victims

await on hard benches, sighing, trying
to read augurs from the synecdoches
parading in adjudication and flying
folders in a metal cart, skinny keys

to futures bright or dark. the chorus
repeats itself, you pay homage
to the clerk, whose head is a flatscreen
whose hands are a printer, it's time


for a break, she's getting much thinner
a quick infusion of dollars for dash
you  feed in  frenzy on
a constellation of cash.