Killing Me

I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion. - Thoreau

running on the fuel of a far-off, leaded coffee bean

stuck in the asphalt traffic of an inhumane, twisted, steel chain

sucking on the familiar, flavorless mint of casual indifference

speaking into heartless, amoebas of plastic

in a hurry to go nowhere

golden arches everywhere

no one's home yet

microwaves the only greeting folks get

cardboard boxes sitting outside of unwelcoming doors

my botoxed, flat screen is already bigger than yours

tears of voice-activated remotes filling a toxic sea

condos where churches used to be

no land left in the graveyard in which to bury me

this world is

killing me

Reviews

[willweb]

Seems we are running out of empty spaces faster than we can run out of freedoms, though I think both go hand in hand. I would be willing to bet that on this road I work on there are no less than 12 new housing areas, subdivisions popping up with 500-1000 houses each which as well means 12 new traffic lights for me to deal with every morning and afternoon. Up until recently, this was all farmland. It is crazy.

[Pete]

you speak a sad truth. there really is no freedom anymore. i hardly recognize places and changing ever more quickly. it's kind of scary and ugly. my question is, "where, when and how does it end" ... :)

[willweb]

Sadly, (or not) I will probably end before it does.