I've made enemies of my cuticles.
friends with a culture whore.
culture whores are the melting pot of urban life.
death to identity.
a breathing manifestation of globalization.
not a clue.
she hasn't one.
playing spoons on St. Catherine's
Montreal has more identity than
the one who poses for photos
who holds the camera above her face
tilts her head to the right
and online for the rest of
contributing to the death of
all that we used to take pride in
we were proud to put our hands in soil
and perspire into the air
that the sun heats
And time was a biological thing
was never an in between
coffee or meeting
only a telling of hunger
or need for rest.
a species of consent
agreeing to terms pushing toward
destruction of value
200$ for a hamburger
pay for the carbon foot print
the cost of additives to your body.
stamp it with a tag on cattle's life
or the farmer's lost rights.
slaves to ubiquitous society
lost sense of present