take a picture of your food,
Instagram that shit,
whatever it is the kids do,
the next iPhone is coming out soon,
chuck the old one out the window,
palm trees, convertible,
blasé as the suicide nets lining Foxconn,
the slaving hands that assembled
your incessantly irritating machine,
throw it out onto the pile
of mercury magic, kids,
into the venom whirlpool,
where arsenic, lead, cadmium
paint the waters.
the kids need another goddamn phone,
don’t recycle your old one,
just toss it on the fatass 3.4 million ton mountain,
and drive through Beverly Hills.
the ever-warming airs and such are a hoax, aren’t they?
coral reefs disintegrate and shit, you know.
winters are hot and the coldest it gets is when you go outside and shiver and your hands are stiff,
but no, there’s no goddamn snow on the ground and there aren’t any snow days.
pretty soon you clog your lungs on whatever it is floating around in the atmosphere,
maybe live a little less, cough more.
if you’re an apathetic one, you don’t really care,
you cringe at the celebrity-endorsed environmental campaigns,
those ethnic children told to beam and there to make yourself feel better about your morals
by donating to a wildlife nonprofit,
you’re just here for the money and denying truths ‘til the end of your time,
because you know you ain’t gonna be here
for the day, the decade, the century, the next lifetime:
carbon dioxide, methane, chlorofluorocarbons, whatever else poison is out there,
imagine your perverted fantasy,
heat. sweat. puddle of greasy human.
arms reaching up, skin and fat melting off in the oven of Earth,
someone could just slurp you up through a straw,
chunks, stew, thick, oily, pimply, shitty,