Anyway, it'd be cheaper if products didn't advertise
But, instead, they waste all that good money
to cloud our vision and stuff our ears
Just to inform in the Information Age, you think
But, really, it's to mold
Look at the Billions spent on psychologists
Don't be confused

Do I believe
There's been a breakthrough
With some significant findings
Through time-released research:
Using study groups,
Control rats,
And free range monkeys?
The announcement's delivered
By a team of thesbians,
And once I was convinced,
I took a decisive step
To get the Japanese water filter.
I almost felt philanthropic
Knowing third world countries
Benefit from my purchase.
I was, I think,
Deceived by a soporific placebo.

“Always remember that you matter, if only as a personalized scream into the chasm of existence”

————————————————————-

They’re all quite terribly polite, these places that carry the impeccable secrecy of your friends in a crowd

————————————————————-

“I watched those rodents grow maturely anthropomorphic and all I learned was that telephones have data plans”

Don't think of
Pink elephants.
Don't.
Think.
Of
Pink
Elephants.

Lies
well told.

So I have a blog I just started, only a few articles are in it but I hope to discuss how things evolve and come to be in society with media, politics and so on... So check it out, feel free to talk ****, comment, joke, etc. Maybe you can see where some of my poems stem from (probably not).
http://dirtymittens.wordpress.com/

I wrote a beautiful poem today,
and then I frowned when I saw it again.
Someone had stopped by in the comments to say
their own sonnet; they put their own poetry in my margins.

I'll be brief, and I'll be nice, and I'll attempt patience at least.
Clear and concise: I want your poetry, but not on my lawn.
I don't want it in graffiti in the margins of my piece.
Leave your words in your "New Poem" section where they belong.

I promise I'll look at them if you ask, and if I have the time.
If you want to reach more people, don't use me as a conduit.
I realize I said I'd try to be nice, but it would be a crime
if I didn't put it as blunt as possible, and honestly?
          If you need to plug your work that badly,
                                                         it's probably sh*t.

          If I inspire you with my words, then respect that inspiration;
          Please cease. Hawking your wares on my turf reeks of desperation.

Sirens will sit, stand, sprint, and lay with you,
if you let them.
Sirens whisper of an incoming life
while sometimes, on the same night,
discussing one that is outgoing.
Sirens have told the people of Nagasaki, Hiroshima, and Dresden
that their air would be turned to ash,
sooner rather than later.
Sirens pull you to the side of the road
to tell you that you're going too fast,
so maybe slow down a little.

Now modern Sirens have taken the face of man,
the voice of man.
They whisper not to the sailors;
but to the people in their cars,
in their places of work
and in their homes.
(buy my product)
(become a member)
(Listen to Me.)
Maybe control is swaying
and man is being changed,
persuaded to
sit, stand, sprint and lay
with Sirens.

I stopped commenting on airy internet objects long ago
lest it be a needed praise of some starving artists’ work
or in response to a worded response of my own work

It’s just such a waste of time to tell a million view band
they “rock” or they “****”
All I will incite is defenders or refuters of my claim
who are just as petty as me

As an immature high schooler, that’s just what I wanted
The modern version of my dead grandfathers
with their white shirts, blue jeans, and duck *** hair
Driving from the city to hick school dances
just to pick fights

I once typed lines of **** talk on Elvis videos from the 1970s
just to see what would happen
- Nothing much
My grandfathers are dead and no one’s left to defend The King
I’m not so tough, but I felt scrappy then just the same

Now, with my lowly little job
my first world laptop and my glasses
Sipping coffee and mellowed out
I read some comments to see what people feel
about an article on my generation
How we’re more corporate than ever
bamboozled by a guise of fake uniqueness

Sure, I agree with the critique in the article
if you can even call it an article
People get paid for three lines of an opinion,
sometimes a link, and then the real entertainment's in the comments
Where can I get in line for this ******* job?
Not the commentors, their labor’s free
I mean the three lines guy, it sounds too easy

“Don’t ya get it yet, son”
My grandad chuckles
“His job’s just corralling all those comments,
inciting easy debate,
and getting advertising clicks”

He shook his head
went up through the roof
and his twenty-year-old jeans
ended in a wispy swirl
But I couldn't help noticing
they were name brand