Feast

Here I sit
Hiding in a bathroom with an
Oak door
Repressing a hatred,
An overwhelming sense of loathing for the
Mentally and creatively and
Emotionally repressed middle class
Pretending to be upper class
And thinking that these bad eggs are
The symbol they are living the American dream,
Rising above their station to experience
Hundred dollar food poisoning (so much more suave and
Less demeaning to expunge than twenty dollar food poisoning) .
The dessert is as decadent as the philosophy,
The unwavering worship of an idea ofwhat wealth means.
And they will all still die
And it will be no more beautiful than when I do.