A Breeze of Crumbs
The green grid of greed
With its razor-sharp bars
Slices the humanity substance
A breeze of crumbs for my dinner
The clock is nailed to its tongue
No itch to bind myself to ground
Only lust, greed and death
Cuff destinies together
So, I am passing my time
As a plop
As a waft
As a dot with no control…