The children love each other like they loved cigarettes,
guilty pleasure crowded on a stained concrete bridge,
smoke choking the first timers and pumping cancer into the experts.
No one showed them another kind of love,
their leaders were competing in the same game.
This is why the woman who cannot afford her apartment
calls the infomercial for the slice & dice:
this is the move she can still play.
The game of success is good to no one,
not even its winners, opportunities printing from its mouth
into their pockets,
words fall into their ears and echo to their feet;
they are still starving for more, they are still calling numbers.