The Subscription

How We Own Nothing Anymore

I don't own the music I listen to.
Spotify does. Or SoundCloud. Or YouTube.

I don't own the movies I watch.
Netflix does. And I can't share the access anymore.
That was the best part. 

I don't own the books I read.
Kindle does. Audible does.

I don't own the software I use to write.
Adobe does. Microsoft does.
This poem is technically trespassing.

Ten dollars a month doesn't sound like much.
It sounds like coffee money.
But I've been paying for Spotify for eight years.
That's a thousand dollars.

I could have bought a thousand dollars worth of CDs or vinyl.
I could have had quite a collection
which I could've held,
shelved, scratched, loved,
passed down.

But I traded it for convenience.
They said it was easier this way.
They said it was the future.

BMW charges a subscription for heated seats now.

Read that again.

The seats are there.
The heating coils are installed.
You just can't use them
unless you pay.

Every month.
Forever.

It's not a dystopian novel.
It's Wednesday.
And techno-feudalism.

My 2003 4Runner is falling apart.
Suspension shot.
The brakes squeak like a choir of mice.

But the seats?
The seats heat.
And they're leather.
And they're mine.

And please... subscribe ;)