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.