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…