I come from 100 years in the future.
TV is toxic with no ambition.
Primary schoolers insult religion.
Everyone tunes in for my feature.
Humans, aliens, every living creature.
As I use dance as my only weapon
Performing on screen with high precision
Brightly coloured, spotlighted, a plastic preacher.
In your world, what could I be respected for?
Would it be impeccable manners?
Would my politeness be known to all?
Spoken gently to even the worst program planners?
Or is it just me posing against a wall?
Or my hourglass figure to all?
YOU ARE READING
sonnets.
Poetryhere's a collection of sonnets i have written . sonnet 1 - benten burning A poem based heavily on Jet Set Radio's Benten district - an area famous for its nightlife and entertainment while the other half takes inspiration from Hong Kong on gorillaz...
