I am an object of consumption.
I walk the streets seen and to be seen,
observed and read at a constant speed
of judgement, and concern.
I am an object of gratification.
I dress to impress,
the subjects of greed and pleasure,
constantly grieving the loss of their
sanity and paycheques
all due to that one shiny console.
I am an object, namely the Other.
I strut to the beat of my own drum,
a drum that was created by the corporations
to make me weep when it's broken
and all I can do is rely on one to fix it,
because I can't do it on my own.
I am an object.
Of consumption and gratification,
namely the Other who breathes like her brother,
is obsessed with her sister,
talks like her mother, and looks like her father.
I am an objec-