Tuesday, June 17, 2014

poem of the day 06.17.14

morning talk shows

sitting in waiting rooms anywhere
they are always on the tv
these smiling chipper beasts of the morning
with the cup of coffee that they never touch
acting like they’re hooked on speed
these white teethed and tanned monsters
laughing and shouting and telling the most mundane of stories
in between screeching jingle music
and giving away trips to island destinations
that no one but themselves can afford
i look around to see if anyone is watching this horror show
but no one is
the people are waiting to find out about cancer
or their loved ones illness or their car
or their pet or their passport or something else
other than finding out which party these televised creeps
attended last night
or whether or not they take shits in airplanes
or something that their pampered little offspring did
i don’t know why these service places torture us with such pap
is it to drown out our very insignificance?
or do they actually like this stuff?
fitness gurus hiding their liposuction scars
emaciated chefs frying up the cheese and lard
vain doctors giving us tips on elective surgery
shitty pop stars and actors in interviews
giving anecdotes on how they’re just like everyone else
i wonder what would happen
if i just got up and shut it off
removed those sparkling botox devils from this waiting room
so that we could all sit in silence for a change
get on with the business of living and dying
worry about the things that truly need to be done
instead of sitting here suffering this
these morning talk shows
constipating us on their cheer
making us deaf, dumb and blind on their sunshine
their tidbits about movies and concerts and jewelry
this season’s must have fashions
and the hottest reads to take with you
when your tired ass settles in for that one week of solace
at the overcrowded, stinking beach.                                                                             

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