Disposal-nomics

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Techno-landfills litter the landscape

like glitched hills, rusted mecha-junk

mountains strewn with makeshift

toe-stones & dumpy bot burners.

Nary an eye bats at acres of refuse,

garbage-yard scenes of obsolescence

planned, tar-oiled testaments to

capitalists’ ravenous waste.

Sheet metal shacks stand in shadows

of gaudy billboards, ads erected

by glad-handing men who under-

stand irony as a posh new ore.

Time wears debris fields down

into plains of flattened alloy,

meadows of copper inhabited

by humans whose veins run

with elbow grease & steam.

Hope is a retired relic, discarded

in cash-fueled fires lit to light

Smith’s slumber-less furnace,

endless supplies of beef tallow

candles & greenback cigars.