Pixilated People

Family historians are born
When a tree is doomed
When the branches are weak
When the roots have shriveled
When the stories stop
When false pride hides the shame

But the stories have been written
In the bones of one to be preserved
One who can receive the energy
That old photos and heirlooms emit
One who has no shame
Because she has a calling

And as analog turns to digital
And cohesive linearity stops
And past and future
Are swallowed by the now
And the wave
Becomes the particle

A pixilated generation emerges
Living byte to byte
The melodies fade
Rap, staccato beats, take over
And cursive is just too dexterous
For the rapid keyboard punch

Stories fade, memes appear
Hook ups are preferred to commitment
Even the body is seen as parts
A different doctor for every part
No cohesiveness, no continuity
It's a world of changing pronouns

History--facts are deemed useless
And pixilated people are easily duped
With fake tits and fake news
They jump from boulder to boulder
Fearing the flow of the river
That goes from point A to point B

So, as the value of the past fades
And the wheel gets reinvented
Over and over
I'll do my part, preserve what I can
Energy never dies
It is trapped waiting release

And I won't shield those
In whose bones the truth is known
We are a motley lot
Our maternal mitochondrial DNA
Haplogroup A2
Has survived 50,000 years

But our branch is doomed
With too many sons
And females with thin sap
So I will release the stories
So the past can rest
And my reason for being ends.

3/22 bjbeyers

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