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Among towering iron skeletons
clad with glorified plaster
for their skin there rises
an endless pulse
drumming into their concrete sidewalks
like the droning of a bad hangover
by overpriced high heeled shoed
and bankers trying to help
get their bank account a hard on.

This parade, this human anthill,
thrives on the fruits of this
Metropolitan network;
a buzzing of wires drown out
by persistent babble of people
trying to make a deal; Buy! Sell!
But no one ever stops to ask
who is being bought or sold though.
a heavenly anonymity exists here.
No faces, no memory for all the history
the mission crystalline windows have seen.
No one cares. Only the buildings do.

Between the high-rises
a beautiful ocean of suits and briefcases
alight under God's own sky swim,
yet the creatures in this eddy of bodies
never once look up to enjoy it.
Everyone must rush
and cash their soul to Starbucks:
their eternity and status hinging
on a mocha grande latte; hold the foam

This is the human race:
running their marathon
to the finish line
of the status quo.



_____EyeKahn_____
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **

"People are more violently opposed to fur than leather because it's safer to harass rich women than motorcycle gangs. "

"Quid quid latine dictum sit, altum viditur."
~~Whatever is said in Latin sounds profound.