Fleshmarket

‘Sell yourself’ they say:

Sell yourself.

If you want that sweet pay.

Market your misery,

Profit from pain.

 

Forced into this world:

Human being commodities;

Shame us for selfies,

As if we can live modestly.

 

‘Present yourself’ we’re told,

Present yourself.

By the backwards and old.

Your present is past;

Your kingdom will fold.

 

Forced to our knees;

Displaying our weakness.

Bent over and willing,

We are fucked to completeness.

 

‘Market yourself’ we hear,

You are for sale.

‘Nothing stopping you but fear’

And this unfailing inflation

Every miserable year.

 

Forced to earn less,

Every time it’s ordained:

All costs have risen,

Your wage is the same.

 

‘Get on the ladder’ a cure

You better be fast.

As it races, unmoored;

Drowning the foolish

Swimming towards its allure.

 

A siren song sings:

Seductive security.

A false set of wings

Dissolve under scrutiny.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s