Howl
- María Roda
- 12 nov
- 1 Min. de lectura
Actualizado: 13 nov
I saw the best minds of my generation
destroyed by male gaze,
starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves to the dating apps at dawn,
looking for a quickly match.
Angelheaded aesthetic hipsters
burning for the heavenly ancient connection
-or maybe just burning for some real connection-
to the starry dynamo of the Metaverse,
who nicotine pouchs and non-fungible tokens
and hollow-eyed and high sat up scrolling
in the supernatural darkness of coldbrew gluten free matcha latte across the floating cities
contemplating trap.






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