Welcome, dear traveler! Step right inside,
To a world where nonsense and logic collide.
Where up is down and left is right,
And facts change hourly—hold on tight!

The year is 2025 (or so we assume),
But time won’t load—too much doom.
January lasted 1,536 days,
And February was stuck in a buffering haze.

It’s now the era of “Oh-That-Tracks”;
Flaws in this simulation’s syntax.
Tension suddenly climbs,
Reality glitches in real-time.

California seceding? Sure, why not.
At least Canada and Mexico can’t be bought.
And honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me
If Florida blundered into a monarchy.

It will always be the Gulf of Mexico
Renaming it? A pointless, wasteful fiasco.
They rewrite our current history
To feed an insatiable oligarchy.

In this late-stage capitalist fever dream,
Nothing is as it truly seems.
What’s next? Billionaires buying states?
Why not reshuffle names if this is our fate.

“Welcome to Zuckizona! Where Privacy Goes to Die.”
“Bezos Bay—Don’t Compete. Don’t Even Try.”
“Muskachusetts: Innovate or Get Out!”
Rebranding Mars as their new hideout.

Laws? Made up! Rules? A joke!
Justice bends where wallets poke.
The news? It’s sponsored by private hands,
Truth depends on market demands.

The absurdity spirals, the glitches grow.
We watch in horror—can we shift the flow?
Reality’s now an improv game,
No script, no sense, just chaos untamed.

Now I know what unholy super glue
Has to do with “The Taming of the Shrew”.
Force-joining what should never be,
A duct-taped reality of sheer audacity.

And as we laugh, the punchline lands—
We’re stuck inside these twisted hands.
A rebranded world, a technical coup.
A new timeline, we are far overdue.

Were we just in a kleptocracy
Now devolved into plutocracy?
Or is this an oligarchy
Collapsing into idiocracy?

While the labels may not really matter,
Their pockets are disturbingly fatter.
What still remains absurdly true
Is power in hands of the unjustly few.

While they force their decrees to stick,
They fan the flame of a burning wick.
Was the wool pulled over the sheep’s wide eyes,
A revelation hidden in familiar skies?

We all have the roles that we play
In our lives from day to day.
If the world is truly but a stage,
What happens when we turn the page.

The old ways must crumble and go
Making room for new ones to grow.
Perhaps the evil we thus perceive
Is the catalyst for the change we all need.

It’s the spark, the push, the force that drives
The space where our humanity thrives.