William of Ockham, we've lost your blade!

"If it looks like a duck, waddles like a duck and quacks like a duck, it's probably a granule of coffee."

Times have changed, become unhinged, deranged

I no longer have conversations with my brain

Subsisting on an atmosphere of insane like methane

Walls close in and google talks

While the world passes by in 7 billion sleepwalks

I enter the kitchen with its freemasonic floor

And then can't remember what I entered it for

Think I wanted a hot drink of regular stuff in the pantry

But a ruckus of protests disrupts any sanity

Sugar as I knew it now prefers the name "Salt"

Curry powder changes its label to "Malt"

It's a collective amnesia and it's sucking me in

I was certain it was breakfast time but know where not begin

Do I place my hand upon the fridge, once cold to the touch

Or do I respect its boundaries or...

Doth it protest too much

I ask politely, "would you consent to my warm hand?"

It doesn't appear to be upset

I guess it understands

And so, I proceed to grab hold of the milk

But a cow on the plastic wears horns of an elk

I guess it's homogenised so shouldn't really matter

But transforms into orange juice as I mix pancake batter

I can't take it anymore; I just need my coffee

But on flipping the lid it has turned into toffee

Google suggests a doctor, they'll be on the way

I'm not sure what's going on; what shall I say

There's an uber medic bot

I let it in at the door

"Don't worry my friend it is all well and true; these items have their rights and you do too.

No point in grumbling or blowing a fuse; it's the age of woke, where you get to pick and choose.

The morph is what's real and you need to be kind. Just accept you are phobic and the one that's been blind.

Anything goes and nothing will be missed. It's the New World Order; best if you don't resist.

If it's stressing you out we know all about that. Here's a jab to make it better and a bill for our chat."