American System
The land of milk and honey, that’s how they get you. A quick sneak peek at what you can have, here in the land of gold streets and crisp clean cotton sheets. Sleeping under orange groves with red, white, and blue reflecting off your eyeballs. Fulfilled and full of joy, you inhale pine essence. Dropping to the earth, licking the dirt, and thanking god for this beautiful country. Fresh squeezed and on your knees, they come to you with contracts. Dazzled, you take the silver pen and scrawl your name on the dotted line. The suits slink back and let the lights go up. And then the show stops. The crowd goes silent and the stage rises from the soil. Leaving you alone, wondering what that smell is, and why your stomach hurts. Answers abound, the bodies lay in organized piles across the hard, lifeless and lacquered wood. A performance, a signature, and a death; a simple system.