On back,
man
they pour down fire
they pour up the smoke
they dig into the back for heavy lead
underground
gorge on bedrock
chew iron spit steel
balk at untouchable things
they fuck it up,
man
they really fuck it up
searching for that next land
next swath of wood
next treasure trove
nobody think
ask the tortoise
how he feel,
man
nobody give a fuck
we boil the soup at whatever temp
them directions say
eat that shit up
stuff leftovers in plastic bags
fuck cares if they rot,
man
you hear what they say?
nothing makes any god damn sense
all propaganda
you're trying to step off
who won't let you
we tell ya gotta go,
man
the back
how many years old?
we're nothing
if we don't keep on spending
then what?
using these gifts
resources left behind to what?
another body will burn them
what a waste,
man
think
all those starling beyond our grasp
more showing light every day
if we could only reach them
pull them into the below
wouldn't it be cushy then?
man
wouldn't it be grand
don't they belong to us?
you and me?
man
already?
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