My generation is a beetle factory 
heirs of a global village    
we inherit the garbage that we hatch out from 
we trample each other for a parking lot 
we fight like animals for a sunny spot 
we were raised by the pigs who ate it all

At beetle factory
it doesn’t matter what’s your platter
if you’re privileged, or if you struggle 
in this industry we’re all surrounded by the misery 
and by the scorn we’ve sworn to ignore 
with tunnel vision
that’s the hallmark 
of the scum creature

Have you ever seen us commute?
squeezed in a wagon, or a car 
hating neighbours for a week, so that 
Saturday night we can scamper, all together
at fancy bar, licking booze from a sticky counter… bleah!

Here’s the worst part 
if you’re a smart beetle
or if you can’t tell 
nail from needle
it makes no difference 
because if you zoom out, brother 
we all live in a dumpster.