the dark triumph of spectacle
Posted: January 31st, 2016, 11:39 am
the dark roast has the aroma
of a brand new day, the newspaper
is lying on the welcome mat at the front door
the tv is on in the background with the same news
as yesterday....and the day before that
except for a minor twist and roll
of the tongue, so twist and roll
the reefer in defiance, take the spiritual medicine
that kills the scripted disease,
scrubbed brains are the sick children of the bourgeoisie
laid down in the modern scriptures
zombie disciples of the advertising man at work
how can I block it all out....the billboards with empty promises
the barrage inside the soul, the dirty images that remain,
the specially prepared persuasion cooked in the ovens
of madison avenue psychos, so sleazy and brilliant
they could have chosen pharmaceuticals, or the mantle
of science embraced by the demons with rotten organs,
the 401 K scraps you feed the dog, the flamboyant
immorality of CEO's that rape and pillage for the fun
of keeping score......the heads are wooden
malignant totems of the decline of empire
to be covered like ancient pompei
when the earth spews her answer to designer greed
note : most days I look for the gems of love and life that are surely there.....
having said that, I also feel an inner obligation to not pretend how bad things are....
to not always write about butterflies and children's laughter....for me this is balance....
it seems disingenuous to me to only write about the beauty that is still there....so forgive
my negativity at these moments....I really need to do both, or write nothing at all
of a brand new day, the newspaper
is lying on the welcome mat at the front door
the tv is on in the background with the same news
as yesterday....and the day before that
except for a minor twist and roll
of the tongue, so twist and roll
the reefer in defiance, take the spiritual medicine
that kills the scripted disease,
scrubbed brains are the sick children of the bourgeoisie
laid down in the modern scriptures
zombie disciples of the advertising man at work
how can I block it all out....the billboards with empty promises
the barrage inside the soul, the dirty images that remain,
the specially prepared persuasion cooked in the ovens
of madison avenue psychos, so sleazy and brilliant
they could have chosen pharmaceuticals, or the mantle
of science embraced by the demons with rotten organs,
the 401 K scraps you feed the dog, the flamboyant
immorality of CEO's that rape and pillage for the fun
of keeping score......the heads are wooden
malignant totems of the decline of empire
to be covered like ancient pompei
when the earth spews her answer to designer greed
note : most days I look for the gems of love and life that are surely there.....
having said that, I also feel an inner obligation to not pretend how bad things are....
to not always write about butterflies and children's laughter....for me this is balance....
it seems disingenuous to me to only write about the beauty that is still there....so forgive
my negativity at these moments....I really need to do both, or write nothing at all