• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 07


This is my barcode
it was always predicted,
in the wild apocalyptic ravings of prophets
my dad was one of those
he said I would be bought and sold many times
because nobody would want me for very long
my eyes could curdle milk he said

I put my barcode on the counter to be scanned
shopkeepers give me stuff
my credit is good – look I even have
a scrap of gold strung from my neck
and another in my hair
these are surplus decoration
given me by those who have used me
to get their shopping
because they haven't got their barcodes yet
and gold is useless against food

People are afraid of me
because of what grows there
stamped on my forehead
but I am the future
even though I look like
a picture of mosaic
risen from the shattered past.