Poem: Consumption

Descartes for America 2013Living here, this stage set of a city, where ersatz glamour trumps

Verisimilitude,

Where fakery — or as Holden Caulfiield called it, “phony” — gets celebrated

Like a two-year-old’s birthday party,

One learns to eat or be eaten.

The all-you-can-gorge buffet combats the all-they-can-steal machines,

Those short-change artists that bleed away your work,

Mechanical chiselers

Sculpting skeletons from flesh.

Stuff more into your belly — it matter not what but how much — and you could

Win,

Or at least break even.

We all must die, rich or broke.

So why not swallow yourself to death?

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