Privilege Plateau
I’m too cheap
To allow myself to sleep
On top of crackling blankets of hay
To watch the revelling stars
Complete another round of their
Revolving, slow-dance
Too far for me to see
Their true lightning speed
Bounding into my eyes
Boomerang cries
Mocking my inevitable
Demise
I’m swimming in
Clouds of cushioning
Protected by sturdy square structures
But I still toss and turn
Complaining of discomfort like I’ve been
Stabbed with a hook
And thrown into the sea
Wiggling around, dying as we speak
There is only one
Similarity
You’ll find me in the
Fine print
Of eternal credits
