Mgc

Straight rows of soft chairs, larval eyes stare blank Absorbed by glowing colors on the wall Their jaws slack, fetid whiff, unwashed and dank Arrested minds the blue screen does enthrall Their horticulture, growing docile strains Indulge the twisted whims our lords conceive The whores to culture, placid in their chains Reclining prostrate, ready to believe Our nation’s spirit sinking to expire Omniscient demigods behind the screen Transmuting our light to synthetic ire Red, white, and blue bows to red, blue and green Unconscious fulcrum, force you can’t deny Black keys in gray hands of the puppet priest Subliminal, no chance to wonder why Clandestine reins pulled taut, they lead the beast Imbue the symbol with gilt qualities Admire how they conspire, our life rewired Such dazzling tricks to blind the polity In breaded, cheap amusements, we are mired Our brave new virtual reality With hidden craft, untruth is overlayed Eclipsed sun darkens to totality Beneath benighted noon we walk as day Predicted, instinct’s base reaction known To tidal waves of violence and sex Minds titillated by distraction’s bone From our Media-Government Complex Our internecine hatreds stoked, inflamed Creating and enhancing the divide True culprits are protected, victims blamed Incessant war, the great rift yawning wide Unseemly freedoms have been made taboo Renouncing power, most don’t even grieve Relieved to give up guns and money too Behind red tape and laws lurk skulking thieves Resounding echoes, our once great New World Through wavelengths, diodes, context redefined Cold software guiding social plots unfurled Far colder people fine-tune the hive mind Inheritors of might presume the role Unburdened by the ballast of remorse Their dark ascent to power and control Soul-searing wind as you climb to the source Some zealots hold that this is Satan’s world Each object of desire imbued with blight Much clearer when the plan becomes unfurled So glaring it becomes they have the right This morbid monolith, our freedom’s bane Temptation steals your breath, you’d best beware Choose reason in a world that’s gone insane Reclaim your only soul and say a prayer © Thomas W. Quigley 7/17/16 Mostly Iambic Pentameter