There is a peculiar comedy to rubbish
Drawing from us capital
A rat race to refusal
Of extinction
We are all here, criminal
Making trenches to hide the nuance
That folds us into animal
We are all here, origami children
Hemmed in at the edges
Becoming nuisance
All bring crushing impact
With a grudge to hammer home with.
Needing no rehearsal to contradict
As we lay inside this labyrinth, the matrix
Bourne by identities.

In short, we are addicts
Living at the tip.