They tell you what to love,
and who to hate
Their EM waves
dictate
when to have feelings of
disdain cut-rate
Callousness is the mental diss-ease
that permeates the air —
Pharaoh moans ...
toxic fumes of vapor crossbones,
they Caesar Palace dicey sell
Mood marketers
always swill toga do,
owe so pyramid scheme well
Create your con-sumer reality
with jingo slogans
as the purchase item guide
Ad hocking violent buy-products,
guaranteed to keep
your gunpowder tears dry
Sob heavy metal tales
of forged wails
is the pitchfork tongue cry
They tell you what to hate,
and who to love
Bend the knee,
profess unwavering loyalty
To the money sign satellite
passing up above
Feel free to
empty inventory please
those remote control, Mood marketers
Let the gold chain ticket stub
be the glass ceiling snub
worth of
your commercial existence
Nil grieve to
never promissory leave
the debt dole, repo soul carpetbaggers
We deal in half-the-price knock-offs,
we deal in less-than authenticity
We deal in brand name imitations,
we're a cut-rate company, y'see
We got those faux designer items,
we got those off-seam irregularities
We got those cheap generic products,
we peddle only second-best quality
If you can't afford the real thing,
and you need a substitute instantly
Then get off the couch
and dial these digits
Get on the phone and come talk to me
I'm your intrepid guide
into the world of the half-genuine
Giving you the inside skinny
on the not-original retail grapevine
Three easy payments
is all you're gonna need
to keep your shaky credit clear and free
Once the deal is done,
celebrate with some low priced bubbly
Courtesy of your favorite cut-rate company
On the first day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . a cut-rate Canadian Pharmacy
On the second day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . two insurance quotes
On the third day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . three free credit scores
On the fourth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . four grow your *****
On the fifth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . five thousand dollars guaranteed!
On the sixth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . six extended warranties
On the seventh day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . seven stock alerts
On the eighth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . eight work from homes
On the ninth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . nine Nigerian emails
On the tenth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . ten get out of debts
On the eleventh day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . eleven singles meet ups
On the twelfth day of Christmas, net spammers sent to me . . .
. . . twelve hot Asian brides
rusted, busted, inorganically crop-dusted
hand-made on our very own assembly-line
low-flying tear-crying, cut-rate-buying
fair-trade-priced, but still...real fine
garment sweat-shop, Tex-Mex field crop,
Civilization Inc. prophets chanting it up
workin' twelve hour days 'til you drop
drinking Cool-(Inc.)-aid from corporate cup
the ol' family farm is right in the box
ol' Bessie's mooing fer all she's worth
sounding par per share of preferred stocks
increasing quarterly statements net girth
consume we must, as our numbers grow larger
we're either counted victor or the victuals
we consume awhile or face early departure
incorporating civilization's declared rituals
how many human souls can one world hold?
how many other species get a place here too?
how can we temper our needs uncontrolled?
how can we help Mother Earth get through?
© Goode Guy 2012-02-11
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