Untitled, original poem #8

where did I land this time

oceans of space and time
erased from mountainsides
 by slavery
processes of continental drift
 and fashion stiffs

coagulated from stellar dust
with lust for the almighty me
weed smokin
 is apparently frowned upon

 introspection gets waylaid
as the bills gotta get paid
while the oligarchs
 and corporate cats
 coats slick
  feast on mallrats and shit
like junkies with a sickness
 for injection


On a barely related topic; the Drake equation was updated, indicating we may be surrounded by more alien civilizations than previously indicated.

Author: Transdimensional Poet

Poet, Transdimensional explorer, fisherman.

3 thoughts on “Untitled, original poem #8”

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