Written Ten Years Ago About This Time

plastic utopia: thoughts on the
deification of pop culture icons; what
happens when push button salvation does
not work—written the night prior to
princesS dianA’s internment

i

(i might as
well be walking
on the sun)

it was started

yet nothing
ever really
happened

we looked for
heroes & we realized
that we didn’t have any

so we made
our own celluloid
deities

we looked
to the one-
eyed-picture-
box for our hollow
push-button
salvation

(all the while
giving praises
to the altars of
the peacock &
the eye)

we were given
flawed philosophies
that we lapped up
like mongrel
stray dogs
which we rebroadcast
as if we were self-appointed
stool pigeon demagogues

we needed leaders
we got harlequins &
lawyers

we need a messiah
we got cheers

we needed knowledge
we go fragglE rock

we needed heroes
we got williS & arnolD

we needed comfort (&what
the hell) it came through—
i miss johN boY & ol’ half pint

we sat in its ominous glow
playing paC-maN sucking down
carbonated beverages
& devouring greasy
reprocessed bovine carcass

we read the tabloids &
let our collective minds become saturated
with nothing-information
& new fangled
yellow journalism

our eyes were filled with pictures of
beautiful people with platinum hair
artificially sculpted bodies with no visible scaring
small noses & perfect caffeine stained teeth

(man, we got took)

ii

our knowledge was
doled out in
thirty second sound bites cleverly
spun by those in charge except
we never figured out who that was

iii

it was their fault
it was your fault
it was his fault
it was mom’s fault
it was dad’s fault
it was falwelL’s fault
it was jiM & tammY fayE’s fault
it was the see-eye-aee’s fault
it was the effa-bee-eye’s fault
it was coL. nortH’s fault
it was some conglomerate-that-took-our-souls-in-the-middle-of-the-night’s fault
it was reagaN’s fault
it was nobody’s fault
it was somebody’s fault
it most certainly was NOT my fault

maybe hensoN had something to with it
i always said that damn frog was going
to be the end of us all

that blasted rubiX cubE certainly didn’t
help matters either

we were doomed

(we were more worried
about ring-around-the-collar
then our preservation)

why didn’t we see this coming

we were too busy worrying about
where the beef was

we gratefully took what
they fed us & drank it
up through prefabricated
plastic straws

iv

our minds rotted & decayed
we still “don’t know diddley”

BUT! we’re in charge now
(haha) move over let us through

to hell with them

fight ‘em
knock ‘em down from
their overbearing righteous
high horses
let ‘em know who’s boss

(ah… a fantasy)

v

(a reality)

instead we just drift
looking searching
but finding nothing

looking

searching

nothing

vi

what does our plastic-cyclops
god say ask it!
turn it on!

hurry! hurry!

maybe the answers
can be found there

(i have a sudden need for
push-button salvation)

why the sudden silence

push the button
PUSH THE BUTTON

nothing! silence!
it can’t be!

the godboX is dead
the godboX is dead
the godboX is dead

!la godboX es morte!

no salvation?
no hope?
no…

nothing?

copyright 2007 DWC