owned

it’s the smart­phone that makes the
deal, it’s the lap­top that writes the
script, it’s the game sys­tem that weaves
the web, it’s the so­cial net­work that
de­mands the time, it’s the apt., the house,
the car, the fur­ni­ture, the toys of all
the big girls & boys that kill kill kill
the won­der­ful­ly ab­stract ideals &
as­pi­ra­tions once had in youth, it’s the
signs of wealth one wears on the sleeve
to im­press those one’s look­ing to
screw, it’s the job one us­es to flaunt
such ex­per­tise to un­leash that fi­nal
woo­ing of the pas­sion­ate prey, it’s the
clothes that make the wo/man, it’s the
colognes, the per­fumes, the watch­es on
ev­ery­one’s wrists in­struct­ing them when
& where to be at such & such a time in
or­der to run on the wheel, do what they
are told & die when it is time to
die.