They exist loudly.
They shriek into their cell phones,
shrieking for attention any way they can get it.
She was doing that today, right behind the car.
She wore a bright purple velour sweatsuit
with sparkly-pink writing on the back,
She stood in the middle of the parking lot,
the borg phone attached to her right ear,
and she wanted the world to know
that she existed, that she was IMPORTANT.
Others buy the splashiest truck or car.
They spam the Internet with trash, spamspamblam.
They march about like they're Rambo or the terminator,
like they're invincible, like they're God.
They want you to notice their coolness, their hard gaze,
their tough-as-nails black T-shirt, their painted-on pants,
their cool do.
The louder they exist,
the less they actually do.
Featured: Denizen, by yours truly