Consumer Behavior


Gobble up and tipple gallons of oil, corn
syrup, Snickers, bite into niblets, slurp up
buttered Hot Pockets, pork-chops, deep-          
fried Ho-Ho’s, suck nipples on spigots, lip
smacking buffets you brace for, old boot 
and rally, goulash you sling in, food-mash
and hash-browns, smeary 50¢ buffaloed 
wings, bag a Big Gulp, more goop, whip
cream, mystery meat, Spam, lipids—rapid
as all get-out, the transfats congeal. Repeat:
beer or hard liquor, gristmill of the Happy
Meals or Hours demolished. While sickos
nosh on their boogers, the beggars, the
choosers (fuck!) have even eaten a fork.
Choice shards we’ve swallowed, bottle
and cork, taken-in by more take-out, by 
a look or a lick, the down on their luck,
snack on poor starch; chug up pure drugs.
A few of those lacking can still stay alive
foraging ketchup packets; packing it in,
going nuts for a nugget, nibbling on nuts
and bolts; others bolt down nothing but
what they buy up in bulk: ham, hog, hot-
dogs—take your pick—all pigged out on.
This megawatt congestion of what Times 
Square, a melting shit-pot process put upon 
auto-pilot? A big-shot of the competitive 
gurgitators, Monsieur Magnatout has out
gulleted us all, slurped a ton of shopping
carts, bicycles, a television set; in a made-
for-TV stunt, he ground down a Cessna 
155, this gourmand of our gormless jet-
set, in a leveling rehash of consumption’s
up-chuck, stomached a grosser ability not
to choke. Took a dessert no dieter could,
polishing off a whole coffin, each splinter
bit to dust, snapped up like his toothpick. 
He spent—he was spent. It’s never enough, 
waste paper, fake butter, cake batter: a bum  
wrap, it’s cellulose and packaging. More lite 
extracts and knacker’s gelatin, a sugary glut 
with substitutes, residues. Big businesses 
belly up as local grocers go down the pipe,
showing true grit, in a ripe industrial melt-
down; belt-tightening along conveyor belts 
and gutted out cities: its aftertaste from (two
sides of the same con) yes-men, naysayers.