Saturday, September 5, 2009


Streams of brain matter pour into steel molds,
Shaped, to fit into the System,
Tested, to see if they’ll hold,
Disciplined, to do as their told,
Rejected, if they melt, crack or fold
But if they survive the engraving of education ,
They are passed down the assembly line,
Until a suitable use for them is found,
A lifetime bound,
A career.

They claim they’ve ‘found themselves’,
‘Realized what they were born to do’,
Programmed to do,
Certificates issued and tagged,
Then ejaculated into the job market
Like sperm swimming to survive,
to sell, themselves.

Some get sold,
Like hot cheap pussy on a cold and lonely night,
Some stock up,
In the unemployment warehouse, Until:
They are bought at a lesser value,
Get too old to fit in the carton,
Break out or get broken,
Or simply rot.
It doesn’t matter,
either way we are replaced
by better-stronger- faster-sluttier-dumber-younger
living products.



eizzy.k said...

makes you wonder, doesnt it?

willpress said...

Nice to see you're still ion your element! Yes, can't agree more...there's a lot of disillusionment in this rat race of a system. I guess the cheapest shortcut to take is create your own utopic state that is not too hard to achieve and when you finally get there be CONtent.. *sigh*

islander said...

oh wow, this belongs in an anthology for kids in school! very well written and oh so true!