The Maze

The corpses of a million used
light bulbs cover the landfill
like skeletons in the the catacombs.
They sound like dampened wind
chimes when you drag your feet
through them looking for anything
of value in the carnage around you.
We’ve never known what to do with
all our extra stuff, but our jobs have
become that of the fillers of places
like this. We work for more things,
more things means more clutter, more
clutter means more trash, and the cycle
repeats. Kafka talked about the doors
out of mazes like this one, but everything
around us is designed like the blinders on
a horse, and we can’t seem to put them in
our sights. I think more people wonder about
things like this than admit it, but you can’t
expect everyone to make sacrifices.
It’s easier to just dig giant holes and use
mechanical hands to push everything
into the dark, and never think about it
again.

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