Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2021
There's nothing special about my greedy utopian dream:
I'm not off grid, or more ecco' friendly;
I still order luxury goods from overseas, hoard, engage in cliques, use the internet, dream about my own bit of land, claim any benefits I can.

I use the same drugs, minerals, roads, hospitals, banks, and I pollute the same air; with the same stink of self righteous elitism; because just like everyone else; I am unique!

(Off-grid irony)
There is nowhere off grid, our homes and our freedoms are all part of this flimsy construct ffs
( .)(.)
Purcy Flaherty
Written by
Purcy Flaherty  52/M/Earth
(52/M/Earth)   
692
   CJ Sutherland
Please log in to view and add comments on poems