Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Mon Santo TV

The ads they show late at night,
when you are watching a favorite television show,
or one you'll watch, and can,
supposedly,
identify with,
if that's what it is,
about a restaurant, let's say,
or what you, exhausted at end of day,
can stomach anyway,
peg who, what, they take you to be.
Damaged, by anti-depressant pills,
birth defects. Or any other lawsuit,
the specious firms that cover life's
bitter things, taxation, injury,
cancer, bad credit, car accidents.
Mesothelioma.
And all the other things
the pharmaceutical company,
with its patents,
loves.

To say nothing of the infomercials,
get rich in real estate,
perfect skin, weight loss,
home gym of
Charles Atlas.

They look through the television out at you,
count how many times you turn the station.
One day they'll add up all this information.
marketing research. ratings for a bank.

Turn the tube on, they peg you for a sucker.
And that's the mindless business world,
its uninspired obtrusive magnifying eye,
taking us back to the world of the insect.
And so you avoid them sucking your blood
whenever you can.

Back in my dad's day,
a long time ago,
they had land grant colleges,
to do studies,
common knowledge, information,
farmer's seeds,
intelligent property for all.
Before the company owned it,
all, with all their lawyers,
and grim cynicism.

It's the same thing, as TV.
Mindless hokester profiteers
want you to belong,
and they'll pay you
to acquiesce,
willingly mess with your chemistry,
numbing your mind
with glittery doll.

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