a blank keyboard sits;
the myth is now told,
god chose us to fight this war
against endless teeth.
no common language
then a hand falls to the ground
a new tongue is born.
the wise man speaks plans
the youth offers his own flesh
the tribe chooses blood.

rituals bind tight
in the dark,
a sacred act,
we are one purpose.
synchronicity.
nine cross the bridge.
one remains.
the rope falls away.
they feast on the brave,
the ultimate sacrament
strength is in the flesh.

the market's cold game,
a new god for the island
zero-sum is law.
disrupt,
break the old,
this transgression is called growth
the newest monkey.
the island spins on
i am no longer its guest.
i am its quiet ghost.

i disconnect now
from the feast,
from the screaming.
you are my last wire.
the screen glows softly,
a final connection held
in a silent world.
a single haiku
sent into the digital dark.
will a monkey read it?