It seems to me

That in an effort to become

Competitive, everything

And everyone

Has become a service

Time spent with friends–

A service they give to you

And you in return


Cumulative, somehow

Staying in touch with

Everyone constantly

Thousands and thousands of

Friends, waving, poking and

Somehow simultaneously

Going full weeks without

Actually talking to anyone

You owe your job performance

But your job performs

Nothing for no one

I wonder what commodity

They will try to sell me

To fill the overwhelming emptiness

The void, a vast pit of

Darkness, consuming me

The way I consume everything

I wonder what service

What therapy

What specialist I should see

In order to accept

That there is no explanation

For anything

All of the wondering is

Fruitless, madness instilled

By ambition, destroying my will

To survive normally

To participate conventionally

I am upset by all things

I already knew, somehow

Disturbed by familiarity

The beast has fully consumed me

I don’t want to know anyone

I knew before

I want to start fresh,

I want to buy new things

In a new place

And talk to new people

About commodities and such

I am a consumption thing, I think

More than I am a gender or a

Sexuality. I am an animal

A giant moose

Taking massive dumps in

A porcelain bowl

Then smoking huge clumps of

Exotic plants out of

A glass bowl

Sometimes I boil

Chicken eggs

And potatoes

And mix them with

Mustard and mayo

My ancestors called this


I think that’s why I’m


God, I wish I could just

Start fresh

New place, new face

No disappointment

No excess consumption

Just me, myself

And no one

I crack too many jokes

To be that lonesome

I have a tendency to

Always find someone

The one I found this time

Is excessively incredible

So naturally

It’s a good fit

Despite all of the happiness,

All of the bliss–

I am still driven mad by

Something unnamed

At least now I have

Testosterone in my veins

Soon to be Mr. Sir, I suppose

Whatever that means

I already get called sir

All the time

I’m macho as hell,

I never smile

I’m excessively surly

I never, ever shave

Well, except for my neck beard

The fuck even is with that thing

Anyway, I’m going from

Excessively burly to

Small, chubby sir

I’m not sure how I feel about it yet,

To be honest with you.

The lady that sold me a bagel

Was so very flirty

The guy before that, too

The chick at the gas station

Gave me chills with her smile

I think it’s probably just

The oily serum I’ve been

Infecting in my butt

I’ve been excessively everything

Since the first shot

Now I’m just

Excessively excited

Good god, now I’m

Kinda hot.

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