New York

Saturated Civilization,
It spills onto the streets,
Stains the sidewalk,
Sticky, black tar.

People dash by, buzzing
From the triple espresso shot,
To Go; in a corrogated cardboard cup.
A life sustained by sweeteners.

A drive thru' exsistence,
All exertion for happiness,
That comes in a polythene box;
Oozing; With no added beef.

The meaning is lost.
And the poet, is shot.