Our lives glued to the television
that’s entertainment for you Americans
half-naked women climbing some rope
white trash beer bellies busted for dope
bullets flying and no praying children
and tears left forgotten in the government dungeon
beautiful idiots playing a game
for money, them whores, and 15 minutes of fame
dirty-jeaned glances and hungry mouths
stuffed with burritos and tastes of the south
dirty little secrets and trips to Hawaii
it’ll take more than that to buy me
you’re on camera one and now camera two
they’ve got your whole life on for the world to view
bargain out your soul to the devil or the angels
two ways down the same road at different angles
cast out the demons, the hucksters those too
don’t sell me your illusions mixed with the truth
say goodbye to privacy say goodbye to solace
you dance your little number, you puppet yourself for us
say hello to mind-control, say hello to the latest poll
we’ve got the biggest fads in the Super Bowl
stab some pigs and jump in a river
these hard liquor ads are killing my liver
sing me a song, dance me a tune
there’s nothing else on in the month of June
measure your time by watching these reruns
we’ll keep you brain-dead till well after one
orange infomercials and shows about whitebread
a feast for the eyes and a knock in the head
douse me with water, set me on fire
and on the news you can call me a liar
bombs on the bus, bulldozer town
the president is speaking 100 feet underground
it doesn’t matter to you ’cause your show is on
that the Bamiyan Buddhas and bin Laden are gone
guess what I’ve got…my hand on the remote
so no more fake cops and Murder She Wrote
Tag: Poetry
-
-
Ubiquitous Things
Cellphones
and losers
bare bones
and hootersPlastic faces
Lifts and braces
Elastic bands and expanding waistsBearded lunatics
kidnapping twelve year olds
who kick and scream just as they’re toldrich oily men
with everyone’s money
locked in some bank
on a beach where it’s sunnyhomeless with cardboard
bombs in the airport
where perverts pat the women down12 hundred nameless
shut behind bars
they took their computers and even the carselephants and asses
are the voice of the masses
and they’re on vacation for the rest of the monthwars, the dead, the barely living
white-haired old men on a rant
the crazy madmen, the mad sycophantthe bible thumper and turnstile jumper
the pennies in the middle of the street
charred forest and hamburger meatsupersize soft drink
times where you can’t think
when the world has no smilefat lazy bastards
driving gas-guzzlers
guzzling back beerbimbos and airheads
baseball caps and clothes from the Gap
walking billboards with holes in their headsgirls who wear zero
guys who make zero
this man’s a hero just for the daymilitants in khakis
Afghanis! Iraqis!
children with guns
wee lads on jihadoverpaid actors
overworked doctors
overplayed hands and bubble gum bandsrubbernecked drivers locked in gridlock
pork belly pundits, roadside masked bandits
cheaters and interns down on their kneesticket lines of cattle
the almighty buck
a country’s death rattle
is good and bad luckBuddhists and Muslims with prayers proffered
evangelical pilgrims with hands in the coffers
lost fortunes, lost people, crooked white coppersmass market blue painters
lawyers on retainer
plastic containers in superfunds
toy poodles, spaghetti noodles, and horny daschundsblack outs, burn outs, brown outs, turn outs
people with tumors
and good juicy rumorsporno and spam mail
El Ninos and gray whales
hackers on yahoo with bottles of yoohooDVD video satellite dish
ozone depletion and wasted by-catch fish
poor migrant workers digging a ditchdisastrous weather, farmer tans
crooks on the TV
when the shit hits the fanpunks, rednecks, cowboys and girls
the American flag waving unfurledbig swollen egos
drink cold cappucinos
while eyes pour over want adsglad-handing fascists
neo-hippie pacifists
comics, rockets, missiles, and blackliststhere’s crack pipes, hash pipes
big bongs and weed
there’s boy scouts and mean dogs
and babies in needpresidents who say no
hotdogs and playdough
butch women with mullets
a kid took a bullet
on the playgroundwashed up old has-beens
homeless in trash bins
eating your left over mealand finally, there’re poets who plan
with pens in hand
just how to open your eyes