Postmodern Blues
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We used to believe
In the hallowed aura
Of authenticity.
Now the recycled
Is all the rage.
Now we travel through forests
Of ironic gestures,
And formulaic retorts,
But sometimes it's fitting
To call a spade a spade.
We have armoured ourselves
Against the sacred.
We have reduced this world
To spiteful fragments.
Now relativism reigns supreme.
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