Crisp Morning

Crisp Morning

Low-on-charge household fights

Fear of a world without

Constant, forced, fake interactions,

Without the lights on full and

Eyes pinned open by coffee and cash.

Scared of the eight-legged creatures

You could kill between your finger and

Thumb. Are you not scared of the

Eight-faced humans your surrounded by?

Rich fat men with skinny white wives

Turning away your begs for unpaid labour

With words that will never benefit the oppressed.

I’m buying my way into a trashy club

With my family silver and gold.

Walk away. Smile. Breathe.


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