Corpses and Gucci Purses


We waste our time of day fretting over our subdual to the nachos

We waste our time of day obsessing over the knick in our expensive boots

We waste our time of day gossiping over the length of a stranger’s dress

We waste our time of day struggling to conjure the perfect synonym for a paper

We waste our time of day mourning a broken nail or broken hammer

We waste our time of day

Decades from now our bodies will lay still in front of our grieving loved ones

And those tears will come regardless of the little catastrophes of life

Regardless of the pound you gained from indulging in self-satisfaction

Regardless of your lack of a perfect fashion sense

Regardless of another human’s decisions


But humans won’t cease to waste their time of day on silly things

Not until the day their lungs give out and their limp bodies escapes their own minds


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