The visions of glory 

I see in my head

are just that

visions, intangible at this second

missions pop-up

side quests and roads

less followed.

Opportunity is luck, good or bad

do fetuses 

fight for access

to the pearl adorned gate

they say, they deserve a chance!

Hear, hear!

men in top hats and monocles

sit grand and large

their Jabba the Hutt physicality 

grope little girls behind closed

doors and marvel at the taste of

sweet, globe breasts as juicy as oranges

shooting their seeds into her womb

as they take turns on private islands

In the sweet sensation of their ejaculation

dreams of war

the murder of the weapons of the

o sweet and glorious dollar

everyone raise your voice and

ask your maker for a glorious dollar

Oh for one more second of glorious pennies

of $15/hr

what da fractionalized frack is that?

an hour of your life for $15 or less 

a plate of food, of an orange to survive

$15 = 60 minutes

$0.25 = 1 min

a quarter? $2.75 for a subway ticket

$1 for an Arizona (thank God)

reality is exchanging seconds of your

life for money, for joy for

approval for understanding the

right to do with my being as I see

fit

“Who is going to fill school yards and be

target practice in my wars?”

he cackles into my ear as he makes

another thrust.