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James Ferraro
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Million Dollar Man
Out of an air conditioned Prius
I open the car door
A warm desert heat rushes in
In the infinite expanse of
Malls and designer condos
A treadmill burns quietly
On the freeway
My sculpted abs are a conduit
For something unknown
Both judgmental
And scared of judgment
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Bottled water
What is that I'm so conscious
Of water all the time?
Traffic jams and designer suits
Lost in the smog of an ancient dream
Fear and Hair-gel in a silicon simulation
24 hour hand sanitizer
And you remain anonymous
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