Stationed by belief
As hungry carts push on
Destined to the checkout lines with a fist of great deals
Forgotten once cashed
Repackaged in plastic wrap where flesh was once sacred
Commercial clichés provoking the same old reflections and interests
In the midst of clones and lapse of reason
Controlled and reduced to produce more and more
but the score lacks anything to do with the salvation found in art form
As chained souls morn in the ashes of the wake
We must transcend and break the links
For these ties are the kind that bind minds
I stand alienated and tongue tied as my mind's eye
sets the grocery store into flames
For the dependence and poison it bakes
While trains of unclassy gluttonous tarts
bump carts programmed to jump start
Relinquishing will and spilling milk
I cried out a river of chill