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The Feed
A world where education is marked with a label.
Everyday, looking out the window from the kitchen table.
The trademarked clouds in the synthetic sky.
Rules that aren’t forced, yet everyone abides by
These guidelines suggested by the feed,
And lesions seen on celebrities that show we can still bleed.
But as time goes by, we become less real,
Created in conceptionariums now, later in factories with steel.
These ideas are all like, “da, da, da.”
Our brains, unused, we’re becoming raw.
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This is a poem inspired by M.T. Anderson's "Feed."