what a waste of paper 



for that I know these words won’t cover
anything, any skin, are a faux fur
worn in summer. 
so let me start like this, with the premise
of the unnecessary. 

				the absolute decoration
				the unaccessible accessory

the diamonds in the safe the marble body
in the sun. like cockroaches
they’d survive an atomic war.

luxury is a paradox. 
polish till the light breaks. 

not much has been written about it. 
byung chul han writes: 
it’s an attribute of the feast
anti-efficiency, unproductivity
the opposition of labour. 
such clean hands,
he says
not war but the feast was constitutive for culture. 
								not weapons but jewels!

the useless. 
the extra. 
the irrelevant detail
peaceful
like a surface 

					things
that have no other function
than to exist. in that case
anti-objects 
freed from any purpose
to serve.
but what does the rotten have to say about this?
the old unplugged telephone, the elevator out of service
what then does distinguish 
the damaged or ruined or broken
from the glamorous?
when both
like me and my depression
do nothing 
but senselessly exist
				
				what a waste 
the highest form of denial

or is it
a poetic endeavor?						
a ready-made rebellion?
					you can’t use me
						if anything
a refusal to consumerism? 
					
							I’ll use you.

as I said, luxury is a paradox. 
welcome to hell, this air conditioned 
underground paradise.
leave your sins at the entrance
and let the bellboy sacrifice, yes 
it is a gated community 
and the price is as high as the fence.
but when you die here
it will be perfect. 
you won’t shit into your pants. 
(it would ruin them)

I want to call it a post something
post dramatic post capitalistic post apocalyptic posthuman
phenomenon. 
	a	prosthesis of being
half brand quarter flesh give me injections of
golden caviar and chemical cells I cant pronounce
youth with all my muscles frozen.
				
				language, a sedated smile
when it says RANA PLAZA as if
it was a high class hotel
and not a death bed in bangladesh.
 
a sip of serum for 700 dollars is called la prairie and I imagine
a western cyborg saddle
a rocket, to then colonize space
or who sings
			e se cade il mondo allora ci spostiamo
						

what a waste of paper
			 the financial times


has a weekend edition in finest glossy print
called HOW TO SPEND IT
it lay on Gaddafis kitchen table. 
I see my brother reading it on holidays. 
He throws it away before I can get a glimpse. 
not much has been written about luxury. 
When he spends my rent for dinner my nephew quotes
no risk no bugatti and when he rolls his eyes 
I can hear the engine purr impatiently. 
he adds
		artificial dirt costs extra
referring to the new super star sneaker

luxury is the dadaism of possession
as someone said I don’t remember.

			I need
 more paper. 

		the editor recently 
changed how to spend it to an acronym, because
you know, in times like these
though that’s not what she said.
because war after war
though that’s not what she said.
because 
the relationship between the luxury economy, world trade and slavery
between exploitation and accumulation
because the climate crisis
though that’s not what she said.
with the inflation and the stock market 
and you know

			the wealthy cry pearls. 
	
now I am pret-a-pleurer.
	
empathy
		a multibillion-dollar industry 
it’s so easy
			to charter a feeling.
and so hard
			to steer a yacht. 


I really need
a plastic surgery for my heart 
this old handbag
can’t carry anything anymore. 

Lets count the crocodiles instead
on the 50 hectar farm of hermes
they don’t have a lot of space. 
but well 
living is a luxury.
this gloomy forecast
is also a roomspray
you can buy it on amazon really cheap. 
I fathom it might scent of 
oil. 


not much has been written about luxury. 
I find an article behind a paywall I can't afford
so I read the excerpt and appendix instead.
exclusivity, only one source interests me.
le luxe de l'absence. 
And of course
what distinguishes it from ostentation or splendour, 
people don't talk about it. 
it’s the fur lining and not the cover.


						worn in a desert. 



					sweat 
			makes all things shimmer



			



such a waste of paper.