In these post-modern planets,
I am not unique even in being of products.

I know others who smell like Starbucks and Sharpie
who speak in World of Warcraft and YouTube memes
who’s stomachs run with Pepsi, not bile
who’s eyes glimmer with Xbox and Wii lights,
and run wet with mascara and eye drops.

There are a hundred thousand, who’s personalities
are not the only things made of plastics
inside themselves.

And I know half the audience,
and all the cast,
is powdery with Mabeline and Covergirl.
Lovely girls
praised for wearing well their Louis Vutton and Dior.
And how I covet it.

Now even the Christmas trees are fakes
because, God forbid the needles
get on the imitation vintage rug.

And often I look around
and see UrbanOutfitters
and Aeropostale
instead of places.
Industrialization, turned buildings into factories.
Paxil and pot into people.

Soon after, we were born from the machines.
Born fully clothed.