across the island several miles
later with marinas and sailboats
into a landfill or a barge,
we backed the dump truck,
and FUCK, there was this very
heavy building and there was
this claw, this claw, picking up
plastic bags of garbage
like child car seats, and debris,
and it was sort of like back-hoe
only 3x the size, but anyway
this thing was like the picture of
an arm that could spread thirty
feet and
everything
was mixed
up and i looked
at a cup of plastic items
and have you ever looked at
something like this and remember
the history of it like you see a claw
go up and down and it's like history
seeping through the economy
somewhere down into
the below the earth, buried
on many levels and it's not even
paid for yet because it's already
in the dump and they're upside down
in their credit cards and they're buried
alive in debt and it's all about money yanno?
and so
i was wondering how much is in the dump
which is actually making money?
much of what is buried may still have
brand new price tags on them and they've
only been bought, never been worn
and each shovel load is a screen of pixels
taken from space and i saw the claw and i asked
myself in the middle of fucking summer
when everyone was out buying stuff
to put under the christmas trees
was it all bought on credit
and people still owe money
or it which is sorta a metaphor
about the rotting nature of humanity
itself and people taking and extra turn
to hang themselves on the cross and
die only to be resurrected again
for another try.
.
.
.
dp.12.26/10
click image for a larger view.
To make your own visual poem, go to Wordle and hit Create at the top of the page. There's all kinds of fun settings to play with, too~!
