The Perfect Crime
the perfect crime by vagabond ©

the perfect crime
(for jean baudrillard)

no body
no murder weapon
no suspects
the eye witnesses
are always there
but see nothing

crime scene tape unravelling
in real time around
a never ending chalk outline
this is the death of reality
happening now and now and now
it’s the perfect crime

the simulation
built on
an unverifiable reality
the illusion standing in
for something
that has no legs

the signal rationed
to the noise
the observation lost
in the recordings
everyone watching
no one seeing

fast food philosophy fiction
served on screens in packets
manufactured on assembly lines
extending from 6pm news
to reality shows
and back to infomercials

no retreat is possible
surrounded by the frontline
of killing or killed
the dialectic space
reserved for thought
gentrified by compliance

imagination our only salvation
commodified by profit margins
and imprisoned by free markets

meanwhile reality lies
on the killing floors
bleeding illusion after illusion
we step in and on and over
these bodies of evidence
that are constantly disappearing

and the perfection is that
it’s happening all the time
but goes unnoticed
because we may be
the only suspects
in the perfect crime

-vagabond ©

Note: April being poetry month i wanted to challenge myself to have a poem with an accompanying piece of art for each day of the month… Check back each day to this space for more… And share what you like… both online and off…



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