Barcode

Stamped entry into the passage of vacuous blackness
silhouettes of bodies light the fleshy shirtless landscape
Let the Music speakers caress
The Throbbing emptiness
Stabbing the grey loneliness 
Of bare chests and cheap vests
Reflections of flared nostrils 
As they queue to administer
A temporary elation from desperation
Shared cubicles locked 
Banged doors and keys dropped
Into the 
Residue of nothingness
The method of drones 
Assimilating clones
The stench of cat piss rotting your nostrils
as you gurn and grind this chemical happiness
This place of distractions
Scanning the space for human interactions
We are all just 
Numbers and lines
an ode to the Barcode.

Damien Arness – Dalton

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