acedia, kill me

should i desensitize or should i empathize?
it’s the question of the century, honey baby
but I can’t hear the answer over the noise,
even silence sounds like TV fuzz.

my brain is hazy and stuck in slow-motion,
sulfur dioxide chokes the earth inside, outside me
but I find it hard to care
about the mass-murdering-psycho-terrorist-atomic-bomb-gun
over there
because it’s not here, only on a television screen, death machine.

i feel the distance, i feel god with a thought and a prayer
nothing’s gonna change us now--no kids left to scare
i’ll rot into the folds of my couch forever,
complicity is comforting.