yore - a poem

A picture of a blurred hand in the foreground, reaching, palm up, fingers spread, to the moon just above center. The moon is not quite full, and in focus. Picture sourced from Pexels from Alican Helik (2023)

when one wishes to

leave

to disappear and run

start again anew

with nothing old clinging to them

how would one do so

in a system of inescapable surveillance

cameras on

every corner

in every room

held in every hand

when one desires to vanish

like in the days of yore

walk out the door

down the street

into gossip and lore

how would one do that

in a world of no substance

everything virtual

theoretical

of exceptionally little substance

when one yearns

to leave

to move

to experience

to BE

how does on manage that

in a system which makes it so

Obsolete

~ written September 2025