Unconscious,
I awake from one sleep
And fall into another.

Luxury,
You may feel no joy
But you will not suffer.

Death,
I try not to think of death.
All I think of is death.

Truth,
Looking around for something,
Searching, stumbling, mumbling.

Data,
Staring at bloody charts and graphs,
As if in a dream.

Repeat,
This all happened before,
Last year, today, next week.

Philosophise,
I arrive at the answer
And then it’s gone.

Humans,
Eight billion of us,
All starring in our own little films.

Lost,
What do we do now,
Now we have all of this?

Suspicion,
The one percent
Are planning to do us all in.

Evolution,
The internet became your brain.

Capital,
All-powerful, evasive,
Moving in mysterious ways.

Employment,
Diminishing,
An endangered species.

Pavements,
Littered with cardboard and paper
And plastic bags full of faeces.

Revolutionaries
Who have run out
Of revolutionary things to say.

Targets,
What exactly is your purpose?
What exactly is your purpose today?

Unconscious,
I reserve the right to be unconscious.
I reserve the right to entertain a fantasy
Based on books written in the 1970s.
I reserve the right to retreat into my head,
Tucked away in my room, in my bed,
Unconscious.
I am conscious of being conscious,
Waking from one sleep to fall into another,
Waking from one sleep to fall into another,
Unconscious,
Unconscious,
Unconscious.

It seems just a dream,
It seems just a dream,
Just a dream,
Just a dream.