What I want is the machine, the
grinding guttering grabbing
machine that eats time, that
looks at today and
sees meat and plates and
cups of wine and thinks;
dinner time…
I want what we are living through
eaten and
digested and turned
into proteins and carbohydrates
and long chain molecules
so that something
good comes from the pain, the
effortless result of hurting
called life
not my life
the endless dragging shuffling
of millions, billions
toward a death predicted
because a trick of geography
put them where water isn’t
where health abandoned
where birth is an immediate
death sentence…
that machine or another, one
that makes hopes dreams luck
and ends pain, ends
the need to learn
to suffer
looking toward
die against the gears
and wheels
of better machines.

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