January 21, 2012
By Anonymous

They live in an empty aquarium, eyes squeezed shut, burrowing, digging, clawing
with tiny front paws
at the unyielding glass, faster and faster and faster.
Scratching their lives away,
trapped, frozen in time, in the four clear corners
that make up their world.
Speed it up
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
They live on a fading blue sphere, eyes forward, straining toward the future,
the world shrinking around them and them expanding over the world,
the water rising,
as more lights, flickers, flashes, pictures make up their lives,
as they separate from reality,
the blue sphere crumbling around them into a blur of papers and LED images.
Speed it up

They live behind a screen, eyes glazed, mouth open,
waiting for food to be crammed in and emptiness to leak out.
The abridged version, the murder solved in forty three minutes,
this one’s too boring,
that one’s too old,
this poem is too long,
so change the channel, click to a new window, new pictures,
Life is too slow, you only life once,
so keep moving, keep going, toward anything, faster.
Speed it up

They live between the aisles, eyes skimming over rows
of seats, of boxes, of anything with colors and pretty lettering.
More production, more things, more necessities,
Mass produce everything, to suit everyone’s needs, churn out more money,
faster and faster and faster.
More choices, cheaper and fancier.
Speed it up

They live
and die
tangled in the metal maze, out of sight and out of mind.
Produced and grown, heaps of them, tons and pounds of them,
sliced into slabs for easier transportation, lives exchanged for money
Feed them drugs, organs, dirt, anything to get them to market size,
barely alive, sick, wheezing, lying on their sides, swollen with stink and flesh,
slaughtered in the billions to feed others’ needs.
Speed it up

click. flip. sprint.
flash. flicker. click. more.
switch. type. scribble.
laugh. move. drive.
eat. sleep. dig. scratch.
More things, faster, better, richer, bigger, new look, same great taste.
Never stay still, because you’ll be left behind.

Left behind where?
The wrong corner of the empty aquarium?
The wrong channel?
Behind the times?

How horrible that must be.
So keep the eyes squeezed shut, glazed, fixed forward, skimming the aisles.
Keep the tiny arms burrowing into the glass corner.
Scratch our lives away.
Never look closely, never look back, never look around, never look up,
NEVER LOOK UP, for fear of finding a purpose,
never care for consequences.

Just speed it up,
keep speeding it up,
until we all fall down.

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