this crutch world
such is based 
on butch volume
how much
we can
stitch moves
across oceans
land on
foreign lands
those gluttonous
super markets
barking volume
takes a stand
columns of trinkets
those base
clay targets
so say money
translate wealth
every emperor
each political head
stamped and branded
across this
tattooed planet
no ample matter
what overall health
our world is forever
everything in tatters
there is volume
columns and stacks
such a whack
of needless things
but we humans
love all this
glitz and glamour
hammered and enamoured
by bright blinding lights
we are enraptured
with colourful fables
stables of greedy
enabling seedy industry
making it what
consumers must buy
take those rumours
deporting masses
past history
a class mystery
still want
all that need
those earthy coins
recalling mirthful Jack
in his toll box
buy climbing beans
plant timely fairy tales
encourage bean stalks
trade your sacred cow
for same old
some magical dream
another holy show
wholly recollection
in a mindless land
of bland sour cream
and spoiled honey
a voluminous place
stacks and columns
of esoteric space
racks and volumes
rich playful tracks
of perverse erotic joy 
mirroring that shine
of stolen gold
so this shimmering
unfolding world
what we see
what we think
we truly know
move sinfully
criminally along
measure volume
accumulate encapsulated
capital mass
measure pleasure
counting triads
of billionaire cash
when we all
see bloody red
when we do
think we know 
what someone said
measuring things 
trashing sacred earth
blow and other drugs
all up your nose
fake news stash
count your coins
everything is harsh
recount lost freedom
accountability is nothing
but everything
a fake news rash

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