They were given cigarettes as provisions,
those who hedged their bets along the lake.
Packets of civet cafe, bread and cacao,
apples bursting with icy rain, all blended
in ice with non-fatty whipped topping.
It was around that time McDonalds started selling
sustainable milkshakes in ethical containers of endocrine,
but it was too late. We’d already eaten the salty sugar
from the bottom of the plastic liner, getting dog fur
in our mouths, transmitted by sticky kid-like digits.