In a vast megalopolis
raw shit floats
in open tidal channels,
bordered by houses
built from scraps of cardboard,
corrugated iron
and striped woven plastic;
children play in slimy
courtyards crusted
with Ecoli, untroubled
by the cloying stench
of digested food.
Around the corner,
a researcher stands
in a living room
with a voice recorder
capturing a conversation
about reality TV.
An animated face
talks of many things,
he gathers grist for his
theoretical mill:
consumer culture,
late capitalist pot noodles,
Slum Dog Millionaire,
and what happened
on Big Boss last night,
he laughs, no shit.
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now this I like raw organic getting it real tight .. wonder writing 😉
pleased you got it 🙂
Oh, this is chilling and real. It will haunt me for a long time. Somewhat Orwellian, to me. Powerful!
Sometimes I think we live in an Orwellian world – had to get it out
Oh my! You really went for this one, M ~ & goodness me does it work! Such a well crafted poem about such a shitty situation ~ & cue the researchers getting off on all that shit! Outstanding write with some really powerful lines & a massive final stanza ~*
I sometimes really wonder about priorities – I guess it’s postmodernity in play
M, you are at the cutting edge for this one; just where poets should be. And, for the record, this is exactly where my conscience lies most days. Only thing that surpries me a little is that I don’t write more poetry about the inequity of the world as it stands.
Great write. I love you for it.
I don’t write about inequity often either
But when you do, you sure as hell nail it!
Thank you *basking in praise*
You nailed it here. The second verse is right out of a Guardian story I was reading a couple of nights ago. Sad state of affairs our world is in. Too many people with the wrong priorities.
There sure are
Reminds me of Bob Dylan’s “Desolation Row”
“They’re selling postcards of the hanging
They’re painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They’ve got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they’re restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row”
And that’s just the first verse of an 11+ minute song.
http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/desolation-row
You have paid me an enormous compliment
A lot of great shit in here. 😉 I almost wonder if it doesn’t start in the second stanza, though.
Ah – good point
Just read through again – you are right! I have edited accordingly
Thanks for bringing out sharp paradox in focus. Apathy prevails to no end!!!
Too much apathy and concern with celebrity
“Too much apathy and concern with celebrity” categorically agree, M. Obsession with celebrity is like a cancer eating away at the ability for the ‘young ones’ to develop independent thought.
That is so true – more drama rather than reality TV would go a long way to stopping the rot