do you hunger for the raw meat of Art
or the fluffy filler pastry of Entertainment?
don’t tell me how you spent your money
tell me how you spent your time
it so hard
so very hard
oh so very hard to climb the mountain of entropy
it’s so much easier to slip on the lip of the Abyss
and fall out of the rabbit hole having learned nothing
when the wind sharks come
(tiny little airborne boomerangs with the tiny teeth of time on their leading edge)
when the western sky darkens. . .
will you cough up enough karma to save your soul?
or will you drown in the colorless blood
of your styrofoam anodynes?