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Racquel Davis Dec 2020
I fatten the cow
And drink her milk
To wash down
Her baby's flesh
And she loves me even now
As I squeeze her *******
Her milk allows
It feels like silk
Because I fattened the cow
To drink her milk
Ayisha R Nov 2020
Never trust the colour
on the packaging
—cos it’ll bleed;
red,
pink,
green,
blue,
black.

o'you'll bleed.

Those colours'll blend
into peroxidic concoction,
so you'll buy capitalistic conditioner
that conditions you
to buy again
and again
to prevent
the bleeding.

Adverts.

Fools.

Bleach!

🫧
© Ayisha Rahman, written circa 2019.
I tasted the money in my mouth
A bitter transaction
A disgusting sensation
All problems can be solved with cash
What is your price?
What a sordid question
I tasted the money in my mouth
The sour taste of consumerism
the taste of consumerism
Mona Nov 2020
we are all sheep
in herds
cut oursleves into groups
jump through unnecessary hoops

oops we lost a fraction of da true self
what a shame
who cares, it's boujee to be lame

be a bot
new hype, it's ******* hot
be like us
or you'll be shot

it's popular
people approve
just follow the music, sway to the grooze

don't you dare attempt to move
stay stagnant
allow your identity to fragment
then sell it off

if your lucky part of it will sell
if not you may be reunited with it in hell

oh well
that's the tee
until next time hunny
hello consumerism
Homunculus Nov 2020
Spectacle!
Spectacle!
Spectacle!

Upon thee I feast  
as your willing
receptacle
thou art my bread's yeast!

Fill me with fear and with grief and doubt
Fill me with joy and with hope I may shout
From atop a tall mount of my own dissolution
And lull me to sleep with your grandiose illusion!

Spectacle!
Spectacle!
Spectacle!

DEAR!

Help me make sludge into mead, crystal clear!
Tell me my roles and opinions and thoughts!
Sell me that which makes my deep emptiness naught!
Oh, you our greatest omnipotent seer!

Spectacle!
Spectacle!
Spectacle!

CAUGHT!

See what you've so serendipitously wrought!
See how so boldly and wondrously you've taught!
For without your guidance, what would be bought?
What would be sold lest the gold you have brought?

Spectacle!
Spectacle!
Spectacle!

FRAUGHT!

What would become of mass cultural trends?
When means for themselves would desist and come ends?
How could we possibly live without you
When you are the arbiter of all that's True?
I don't know that this is finished. Also, don't read Debord the day before an election.
Kyle Reeves May 2020
let’s blur truth behind
our forest of strings
teased by blocks, and below
they dance these real boy nows
                                                                                                              clap
                                                for the show
say
                                                 your lines
                                                                                                              sing
                                                   like me
I’m
                                                your queen
baubles like pebbles
shine my fingers please
watch the firewood gambol
**** the harvest, so languid
                                                                                                           shape
                                                   your hips
just
                                                    like me
                                                                                                                 oh
                                                 they'll swoon
just
                                                      for you
please dance for the show
marionette toy!
oh sing these strings up high
what ballet they pull
                                                                                                              take
                                                         a try
no
                                                     my turn now
                                                                                                               pull
                                                   the garrotes
you're kindling
                                                         to us
Jose Carlito May 2020
The great irony
Is within us all, our economy
On why it bleeds?
If we're only buying what we need
Velvel Ben David Apr 2020
no one cares if
they live or die
skin, body, spirit
Grinding, Sweating
away the hours
the years of their lives
to live in a ****** place
get drunk, get ******
procreate further minions
to carry on tradition
of assembly-line-like
existence.
there must be something
something to believe in
more to this our mortal life
than the morning commute
the eight-hour-blur
the drive home
falling into a chair
in a room you can't afford
to watch mind control
media, bureaucracy, drudgery
there must be something
a better way to be
on planet earth
the planet is a wonder
the people I like
but not what we do
what we have done
for years on end.
give us something
anything - to believe in
no more nihilism
no more consumerism
no more shackles of debt
when the plague is over
give me the green fields
in the foothills
in the small towns
give me the summer
sidewalks in the city
give us all easy living
like when they talk about
summer of sixty-nine.
give each of my poor friends
a home to call their own
show the people mercy
give the folks who cannot
take care of themselves
the Haven they deserve
and care from all of us.
nobody
no one
not a soul
should have to spend
everything in them
just to get by.
we all just want to make it.
is that too much to ask?
© Velvel Ben David 2020
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