Peeping Tom
Surfs the virtual world
In an hour he can be
In over a hundred countries
What does he see?

He sees what they want him to see
He thinks he is free
To choose
But he needs to know that he is used
And abused by political puppeteers
Behind the scenes
Market-share-mad merchandisers
Twisting his arm
Elbowing him
Standing in his way
Shouting in his ear
They know exactly how to get his attention
They titillate
Create fear, desire, frustration
They only show a bit of it
A *** or two
Always something new

They make the waves
That Tom rides
They make them high
They make them long
He thinks they come from the sea, naturally
But Tom is wrong
They are man-made waves

They have him in their computer,
In their long range plan
They watch his every move
Give it to data-entry
Then to oceanography
Where they play
With the waves
That he will ride day after day,
Thinking he is free,
All alone on the sea

Sean Hunt    Windermere  July 2015