Fake romanesque paintings
Columns so bold, yet hollow
Lights, signs, storefronts
They all paint my city
So cryptic and plastic—

Where small plastic chips
Make and break you—
Where big brother watches you
And your hash-lined pants
From all 5,182 cameras above

Home, a place not like a home
Where the masses flee their constraints
And drink, and shop—
And where, here—
They play the most danergous game