will work for food

Mr. Homeless Man,

I'm sorry I don't have any change on me.  Usually I'd tell you that I already gave it away to that oily dude down the way but not today.  I see you sitting here nearly every day, is this a good spot?  You obviously haven't died from malnutrition so I'm going to assume it's a good spot.  Do you mind if I pull up a milk crate?  You see, the economy is an ever evolving playing field and while you may have been able to rake in enough to feed yourself by working this corner for the past 5 years you're going to have to re-evaluate your business plan.  I smell good.  I own a tooth brush and a perfect set of teeth.  I have friends with washing machines and refrigerators I use.  I can speak perfect English and I took a few debate classes while earning my degree.  I shave every morning and shower every night.  I use 2 ply toilet paper and have never gotten addicted to any habit I can't financially support.  I have a plan for my future and take steps daily to ensure it's completion.  I always smile and never cuss.  I don't ask for free handouts but for work through which I can earn my dinner.  Congress may bail you out but until then I'm sorry.

I'm your competition.

-Thomas

who am I without wings?

Butterflies

In my stomach.

Are broken down by

Acid

And absorbed into my bloodstream

Their flutters traverse all constituents of my body and enter my

Brain.

Making it impossible to think straight

To be myself

Who am I then?

As butterfly wings and red blood cells coarse through my limbs

Initially shocked by the presence of the other

They come to an agreement.

I am nothing without my blood

I am nothing without my wings.

Nothing digests into something

But what.

bart - part 1

I lay on the train in an attempt to correct my 4am bedtime
The vibrations lull me towards a solution
5.25
That's how much I paid to feel the shaking car
Until.

My seat stops vibrating
This happens on occasion
But the voice in charge is partial to quick remedies
Not this time.

The gentleman across from me paid 3.10 for his vibrating chair
The woman behind him paid 4.50
They both like being shook
But their chairs remain motionless.

A mild groan escapes the gentleman's lips
His name is Howard Slater. he works for a bank
His job is monotonous and mundane
The daily vibrations he receives are what get him out of bed.

Fuck
The word falls from Howard like Newton's apple
Being pulled by the force of a stagnant seat
F=ma.

The woman behind Howard Slater takes encouragement from
The apple
She too wants her seat to shake
That's what she paid for.

The woman echoes Howard's sentiment as
A loud but incomprehensible voice booms throughout the train
People are getting angry and the voice doesn't want that
The voice doesn't realize they're angry because they can't understand what it's saying
Almost as angry as they are their seats aren't vibrating.

We've been duped.

programs on tv
program our minds
we are machines