Econopathy

by Madylin Garcia

Snare my Hope

Catch it innocent and whimpering

Strung up by its throat.

Slice and roast its meat

Sever and taxidermy its feet

to sell on keychains at truck stops

to greasy hands,

Desperate to find

a false prophet in a rabbit’s fur.

Commodify my Compassion

Break open my ribcage and

Harvest it straight from the source,

Rich, warm, and all too loving

Bottled up in microdoses

just enough to connect,

to feel

but not enough to care

Not enough to change.

Drown my Outrage

in car engine growls and neon

Melting holes in the night sky.

Cover it up with ads for

Subscription-based sympathy

where all profit goes to

Financing fixtures and fictions

to distract

from dodging needles on pavement,

cracking them beneath boots.