Connoisseurs of every medium
we are served, on a tray, our global food.
That car’s not right? We’ll have another,
and the house that surrounds us is huge.
This computer could well range more stylish.
That dog we bought? Not working out.
We’ll sire more children for our bloody line
we’ll be elderly glorious gold.
Our bodies are falling away to dirt
each cell striving 24/7
to preserve our handcraft visages
beyond the deep and lonely grave.
Comfortable in our refrigerate casks
we’ll arrive at heaven well- fashioned
shoulder aside the angel wailing
silence the choirs of the dispossessed.
With our turned-out phrases
with our mildew educations
we’ll beat foul death
to his rapid punch.
We’ll pry open the barriers of infinity
crush the telomere opposition
stride over the once-holy universe,
drunken at its star-struck farthest edge.
We are the glorious race of the favored
defended by rare technologies
never a moment the earth will claim us
nor the judgment of heaven descend.
We’ll banish sorrow and the rigors of age
eat every possible combination
of the cosmos’ fruits and treasure awaiting
give us this day our eternal bread!