Inside A Porta-John On Day Three Of A Music Festival

in this moment
fighting our way from
the red stage
to the blue stage
against churning currents
of general admission wristband holders
we begin to question
whether this is fun
or a banal rite of passage

must we all seek
the same curated experiences?
must we subject ourselves
to these close quarters
trading sweat with unwashed strangers
in the name of rock and roll?

in this moment
there is a realisation
that life is little more than
a branding exercise
we align ourselves with images
that reinforce a view
of ourselves as individuals

as we stand patiently
in this interminable queue
waiting our turn to relieve nature’s ache
inside this wretched overflowing
portable toilet
we hold our noses
and look between our legs
down into the stinking hole
for the end of the illusion

a moment of clarity arrives
as we realise that
we have become the commodity

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