Subconscious Avarice

Sitting in this cave.

Flatline ringing in my ear.

Deranged propeller revolutions.

With a condescending sneer.


Purpose paused. Things to do.

This wall seems to come alive.

Dots begin to stop connecting.

As I’m thrust into a spiral dive.


Clutter takes over.

With caffeinated rage.

The perils of a concave hexagon.

Trapped, in this irregular cage.


Escape means nothing.

When the binding’s elastic.

Run a thousand miles.

Or do something drastic.


Society’s veil remains so burly.

With the capitalist lie distorted.

The rabbit wins the race.

Precious life becomes contorted.


So rinse, repeat, and iterate again.

We’re deep within this recursive dread.

Subconscious avarice of frightening proportions.

Toil till you bleed. For the beast must be fed!