Betrothed to a great and unending sorrow.
Grasping, wide-eyed, at advertisements
luring the wanting soul inside with
decadent promises of quality and joy.
Perfection marches on, lingering in the eyes
of millions, so that they may divulge themselves
of hard earned money for brief spurts of happiness,

and it is indeed true happiness,
even if momentary.
Clicking the blue purchase button,
the anticipation of package tracking.

Another thing.
Another thing to pile up, and throw away.

It's not the thing that's being purchased,
it's the promise of fulfillment.
It's the brief respite
from that great and gray cloud
to which we're all wed.
It's the moment of joy,
that's what's really paid for.

Oh, and have you seen that new cellphone?
I want one.

You should too.