THE BILL COMES DUE

Expand expand like cancer Devour forests marsh and fields Replace them with cubicles For work that doesn't really matter For work that doesn't matter While screens pulse purple images Of the frozen homeless Of the hopeless addicts Of body bags at midnight Body-camera swat teams Kicking down the door Huddled in our bunkers Our virtual utopias Horizons shrunk to statements Of how much we can spend How did our human nature Become something to ignore As if our lack of love Is something to be scored I once resisted This diminishing Now I just keep spreadsheets To document decline Surround myself with stuff To pretend immortality Stockpile pills and scotch Waiting for eternity Until the dumpsters gather My collection of distractions While the smoke signals The end of all our days For we are all Promethean Chained to the rock of want Each with our little fires Together burning, burning out Yeah, burning, burning out Burning, burning out