I look like him.
When you look at me, you look at him.
There is always someone’s abstract God.
There is always something that we’re not.
We’ve got destinies we bought
on the internet.
I came here feeling sick.
Saw three pills on a billboard.
I don’t want to change.
I want to be changed.
A medication regimen.
A synthetic firmament.
All the internalised momentum.
All the plants we never watered.
Assigned at birth
the approximate amount we will earn.
A monetised death.
A modern man.
A revolving exit.
A subscription plan.
From the blistering glass of the melting clocks, to the tune of an alarm that you can’t switch off, you keep running, you never stop.
More of this? Really?
Sign up to future… whatever this is.
Lee Switzer-Woolf 