Citizens

We’re citizens of a tribe of sedative-ecstatic savages

We inhabit kingdoms of infrastructure and sewers,

Belligerent beasts writhe under our itchy politeness

Our collective stench is doom itself, but our senses dull it, dispel it.

Concrete towers crawl with drooling leprechauns

Who drown their thirst with yellow puke at two, three, four.

Our eyes have the gleam of rust, their edges leak,

The glare is etched, burnt, stretched over our friendly faces,

As day upon day, our furniture feels heavier, the air

Feels heavier, the droplets from the shower

Feel heavier, the wholesome salad’s lettuce

Feels heavier, the sun starved eyelids

Feel heavier. And the feet, the fucking feet refuse

To do their job because the blasted shoes

Feel heavier. We’re citizens of an aspirin-fueled, vodka-inspired kingdom

Our dreams, desperation, plans, lists, steps,

Molest, maim each other’s naked, bruised, blistered bodies

In well-oiled minds disciplined by syringes of cynicism

Since justice takes time, we scroll down.

We run, lined up, facing fake, projected fields of green,

Inhaling measured gulps of curated, comforting gas.

We curse, cuss, bleat back to health in no time,

Our bodies can only take so much rest.

We the citizens, pledge ourselves,

As one blighted people, regardless of rage, time or reason,

To build empty shells with pilfered eyes and punctured ears,

And mouths sown up with feisty aluminum granola bars

Who pass narrow streets to nowhere, cradled

By fortresses buttressed by gold, that

Beckon, but softly, too softly, so softly, almost not at all,

So we let our bodies be carted, cut, youthfully bled,

Through embellished, stain-resistant, echoing corridors

Between tombs of stacked cement and glass.

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