a camera zooms into the atmosphere and all that's left to see here is piles and piles and miles and miles of trash
decades of yesterday's treasures the must-have crazes of every generation each fly-by-night design trend mass-produced and reduced to stacks on top of stacks decaying but alarmingly slowly
a curious octopus investigates my old toothbrush he shakes his bulbous head and mutters something about incompetence as a delivery truck rumbles down my block forgotten but not gone so much stuff
like my wedding dress one thousand three hundred dollars better spent on rent or a trip to Vegas where the odds aren't so against us
but dopamine is cheap coffee, candy, whiskey I could buy my dreams if I could afford them (which I can't): Margaritaville's a happy plastic island Disney World is perfect plastic magic and I'm sold I want to go there
meanwhile old trucks rust in junkyards satellites collide like race cars and my windshield has a crack so large I can hardly see where I'm going
consumerism is our national religion and I try but I can't escape it I love it as much as I hate it the rise and fall of American kitsch looked better on Elvis now we're accelerating toward some ominous high-tech destination with Botox-stuck smiles on our faces but no matter how many products I purchase my vanity project is failing I am aging my hair is greying
I sat at my kitchen table pen scratching on printer paper I wrote “life is a process, art is truth joy is real humanity is kind and there is nothing left to buy”
then I set it on fire particulates clogging the night sky I scoop my packages off the porch and look up with tired eyes start my car's ailing engine peer through my broken windshield and driveTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.