A sea of boxes by
the train tracks.
God, they're all smiling.
"Caution: Contents may
cause EXTREME happiness"
I want to barf, but shouldn't
waste the nutrients. After all,
the vomit may just get fetishized,
boxed up, and sold to a fan
of vomit. (I'm sure they exist).
One can't be too careful these days.
In the jungle, every bozo is a potential
enemy. Not many friends. The fiends have it.
The train tracks, the ships, what else?
Planes and automobiles.
The bastards even took the medicine.
Now what?
Let us learn the bow and arrow; let's hunt.