I've got listicles and pistols
And cut up rows of meaning to be inserted or loaded in a chamber and fired into thought
I've got listicles and pistols
And tentacles of incomprehension
Chemical fashion to improve social smarts
Tortured pragmatic limits for the mind's natural boundaries
Big boasts about how strong and unique I am
And how readily I would use violence to make a point
Information as a weapon and here's the firearm
How easy the mind grows stagnant
Relying on lists to import information
The way the president relies on prepared briefings from his staff
I've got listicles and pistols
And the tricks of humanity when it fools itself
Today this finds the standard is to be less into thinking and more into viewing
I'm not going to tell you anything anymore
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem