Deliverance
From the diner of clichés,
I summon a word –
a lens, an eye,
a sword,
vegan, organic, gluten free.
It arrives on a metallic scooter
in an orange pizza box,
insulated and cold,
indefinitely guilty,
perpetually in debt.
The very debt you paid back sevenfold
in silhouetted blood,
in stencilled gold –
a traitorous hero,
a principled coward,
a genuine fraud.
Created
in the image of fear
from the clay of phobia
with the scent of mould.
It flows in your veins like a virus,
it flows through your brain like a code.
Surging, italicized, bold,
all in the same box,
insulated and cold
– freedom.