For Those Futurists Lacking Futures

Failed to face the terrible truth of the penniless idiosyncrasies found throughout the deplorable depths of the animal kingdom’s most sullen reaches. In the blasting fake heats generated from the thousands of decaying dead. Mortgaged on the sweaty backs of the future generations forced into menial forever. Ignoring all the threats nature makes. Gallivanting nonchalantly across everywhere as if nothing existed. The twisted self in the throes of self-absorption. Here in the bovine state of being. Food and fodder. Slaughter and fattening amidst famine all consuming. Like large aliens in neon cottons made of stripped dried out lands. Hordes forming in the hinterlands to devour us vultures like vultures. Full circle. The teeter tottering obese aliens. Aliens in an alien world. Space stations all pre-fabricated ticky tacky. This is the future we got. Maybe it’s the one we deserved. No flying cars here. Instead they gave us an eternal flight of fantasy. Rocketed into the outerspace of disconnect. Locked tightly. Safely secure sheep in the warrens. Aliens anyway you look at it. Food flown in from what might as well be another galaxy. Flash frozen in the oily residues of preserving fats. The real sustenance absorbed visually. Stay still as we hurtle through space. On our way to cartoon-like sizes and deep fried paradises. The life support system on the craft will last forever. Just like our march to eternity. A march on a road paved with gaudy plastics. The age that our ancestors will sneer derisively at. Spit on us as you toil in the overheated sun we gave you. Scraping shovels against the poisoned barrenness will created for you. In the weeds, rats and bugs. Sneer away. We didn’t think highly of you. So why show us an inch of respect. We deserve it all. Aliens.