exhausted to the point of cliché
although I am fundamentally honest
in a naïve kind of way
I was forced to creatively lie
in order to preserve
my Chinese takeaway meals
I passed by the skin of my teeth
momentarily able to suppress my naïveté
there shall be another famine
as there shall be another feast
I would rather choose famine
for the feast is exorbitantly priced
where to from here?
restraint and unfetterd creativity
stealing time and killing boredom
(for boredom is counter-revolutionary)
and refusing to fall prey to depression
(for it is but the extension of boredom
in a consumerist capitalist society)
may the famine destroy the feast
the self-destructive tendencies
of a meal, which dishes out apathy,
disillusionment and complacency
1 comment:
it is cryptic enough, like the chinese takeaways!
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