Boneyard Tavern

I sat on a mustard color stool at the Boneyard Tavern, chatter filled the atmosphere with spite, poison and lust entwined, lost connections and backward remarks, Sitting next to me, Tennyson Walker filled with chilling certainty
stalwart with a deep southerly lisp
sipping on bourbon with a cigarette
“Son, It’s not about the left and the right,
it’s about you believing the lies even
though the truth is simply in sight,
your eyes are set on the endless
distractions as the leaders of the world
shake hands, the globalists are chuckling,
and the critical thinkers are censored,
Don’t you recall the infrastructure bill?
countless pages of radical logic unrevealed
as millions sit still, don’t nod your head,
We are dancing in a war of intelligence and segregated information, humans become
collateral, and the changes just blink,
faith and theories are bullet points
drenched with disjuncture, governments
unifying and emptying citizens pockets without consent, prepare for the crumbling”
I sat there in a daze as a conspiracy theorist,
mesmerized by an articulate blue collar
worker, generations apart but understood
the colors and fabric of our country’s flag,
I no longer felt isolated with the realization
the more silent I am, I am part of the problem

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