An Assortment Of Words

The Landing

Social satellites orbit the kitchen counters,
And in the hallway outside the bathroom,
Laughing at deaf jokes misunderstood,
Exulting vague reviews of cinema, unseen,
Feigning ignorance to please the obnoxious observers,
Who spitefully appreciate their image on screen,
A cocktail of scornful egotism, recognisable self adoration,
And artificial replication,
Pleasure peddlers more concerning with passing dogs,
Than the dress code of your 'not a house party'
Trying to internalise every moment,
And stagnate the rampaging approach of absolute reality,
As if trying to absorb some sense of divinity,
Which is overlooked by those who take it and grant it
With casual contempt in exemplary eyes,
Amused by your cynical circus of vanity,
Parading, pretending to play away,
The eyes they don't want to show they know,
Denying denial of morals defiled,
And refining the practise of being elaborate without expense,
Intense without intent, happy without consent,
Floating in the most predictable way,
Popularity probes approaching space,
Resume being who you cant face.