A View from the Top

Heaving breaths with every sigh draw laughter as the view unfolds, a view which only gods should hold humans, they can only try to leave the ground’s grasp so dry. But what in the clouds creates this pull? As the wingless cling to the altitudes, Soaked with insipid platitudes, Does this explain the human drool Over the endless range of useless “tools?” We cling to all that is new, unapparent, but through outlets that shield the true selves that we cannot undo. By tallying all that’s received and sent, Pitifully compete for social content. Sparks and electronics are what enthrall Throngs of people across the earth, Throngs that wither upon a dearth of the ability to shrink the unfathomable all to a size that is quite controllably small. Why these retreats to such heavenly spaces? So we may experience life without faces.