jueves, 13 de agosto de 2020

Cloudy Perseids


It is too late for nothing

Resources are gone

chica Pecado is gone

Hope was born dead

and

the sun seems to

melt

more than yesterday

our daily 4,99 unhealthy fake priced

greasy-coltan

fish and chips.


Why then hurry

or complain?

Nowhere is not accepting

migrants anymore

since the void stocks

hyped and 

Fugazzy Inc. 

devoured Concurrence Corp.


The walls to jump

stay once more

in our mental supermarkets.

Whereas

illness stains could

waive this elementary

protocol.


Meanwhile,

early at night

your thirst awakes you:

Go scroll an essential lie

to stay home and survive. 

As you may know,

it sounds better among us

to surrender, before

starting to stink

too critical.


Rustville

He we are.

No teeth left.

I, me, mine.

Functional

limits.


Farts travel from east to west

inside a supersonic can

making "unbegreiflich" business

with no need to be scanned

cool enough and wealthy

healthy-well-looking

addled smily

demential and also slaved

like you,

by a shady-whip algorithm.


Who cares then?

Stay calm and syntonize.

Stay calm and resyntonize.

The Future winkles from

your free 4D glasses.


"Current" is a mountain of shit

tasty mountain of shit.

But you will love it.

You will love it.

Will love.

It.

No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario