Look At All These Damn People
You meet people, and you can hardly summon
The cognitive strength to hold a conversation
Because they’re hardly people at all,
Less than people, less than chalk outlines of people,
Less than dead skin piled in the shape of a person,
Less than a virus, less than igneous rock,
Less than space, less than the dark matter between space.
These people want to talk to you about nothing.
They want to talk to you about CSI and Justin Bieber.
They’re polluting the earth with their cow-eyed children
Talking for hours about their industrialized livestock children,
Ignoring the fact that their children have no future,
Ignoring the fact that these children are dumber
Than any previous generation of children,
That everyone agrees the future is barren deserts and lava fields,
And isn’t that a form of child abuse if you think about it?
To thrust small children into a hopeless dystopia,
And then later claim with a strained lack of sarcasm,
“Well who could’ve guessed it would be this bad?”
And they have no hobbies or interests that matter,
And they look at their spouses with dead eyes,
And they’re offended by anything honest,
And they’re offended by anything dishonest,
And they’re offended by their own bodies,
And they’re offended by most movies,
And they only love movies about the 1800s
And they only love movies about English royalty.
How many hundreds of millions of people exactly like them,
And they all think they’re unique.