deepundergroundpoetry.com
Reciprocal Howl for Alan Ginsberg or Pinch Me I’m Screaming
Welcome to the world! A rubbery sterilized latex hand smacks your naked prehistoric womb-fresh body square on the back. From then on it’s grow up, drink your milk, stay in school, get a job, respect your elders, buy a car (but NOT a SUV) , have a kid, don’t chew with your mouth open, FIGHT FOR YOUR COUNTRY, and don’t do drugs!
Pop tarts, pie charts, dirty blond Molotov cocktail. Riots baby! And war in the back yard. Super Size, standardized, but who can stand it anymore? Don’t you worry, there’s a pill for that, and stock options, and vodka tonics – for the atomic economy. Mass-produced monotony, but whatcha gonna do about it? Blow your brains out? Take a shot, one stop shopping for a strip tease, strip mall, quite the hall for the bargain hunter, the rumrunner. Even the presidents ran, all the way to Iran! Hightailed and bee-lined, straight for the pipeline. Save the oceans! Go fuck a whale! Global warmings set the polar icecaps a sail!
Be an individual or Get Out, stand up, fit in, turn it, tune out, turn me on, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, because it’s sink or swim in this White-collared Blue-balled businessman’s world, and my inner tube has a hole in it, and the only thing I can get to inflate is the economy.
Someone should send the government a subscription to Cosmo, because quite frankly Church and State are having an affair, and it says, right here on page seven, that friends with benefits simply do not work.
Baby boomers birth corporate consumers – gentrified eccentric, General Electric! And everybody wants a piece of the pie, but with prices so high, you might as well die. Stock market crash, black market hash, God FORBID a gay senator – we only take cash. Buy, sell, trade or lease. I just want a piece of mind; fuck world peace.
Just incase your cell phone has no service, your Internet provider is on vacation, or you are just generally oblivious to the 6,000,000 watts of offensive flashing neon lights and raunchy explicit view-obstructing billboards, turn up the volume on your pace-maker so you can hear the media scream alternately: Try the combo meal, Jesus died for your sins, get your high school diploma online, God bless our troops, and BEHOLD THE POWER OF CHEESE!
Our fast food joints boast over 4,000,000 served; but how many are stupid, fat, illiterate, and sitting in front of their T.V. sets? We don’t need no education, but if we did, you better believe that we would leave no child left behind. So what if they can’t read? They can still count the calories on the side of their cereal box. Primetime, family time, quality time, anytime – it’s all a scam. Don’t be a sucker for corn syrup false advertising, or trendy packaging – even though I am.
Cross your fingers when you say the Pledge of Allegiance; one fucking nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all, bitch! Run with scissors and pray with your eyes open too, while you’re at it. Just don’t let Big Brother, Sister Mary, your parents, your principal, the school board, the PTA, NRA, FBI, CIA, CBS, NBC, MTV, BET, or VH 1 catch you. And NEVER SELL OUT! Even if all they want is to launch a mini-series, shoot a made-for-T.V. movie, take your photo, run some tests, draw some blood, or steal your soul.
An autopsy is being preformed on a has-been supermodel somewhere, probably a drug overdose. Your neighbor’s dog is on trial for attempted battery of a b-list politician. A celebrity gets the electric chair for insider trading. You wake up in a cold sweat and reach for the light, which is of course burnt out, not that it really matters anyway, you weren’t having a nightmare, it was just the American Dream.
Pop tarts, pie charts, dirty blond Molotov cocktail. Riots baby! And war in the back yard. Super Size, standardized, but who can stand it anymore? Don’t you worry, there’s a pill for that, and stock options, and vodka tonics – for the atomic economy. Mass-produced monotony, but whatcha gonna do about it? Blow your brains out? Take a shot, one stop shopping for a strip tease, strip mall, quite the hall for the bargain hunter, the rumrunner. Even the presidents ran, all the way to Iran! Hightailed and bee-lined, straight for the pipeline. Save the oceans! Go fuck a whale! Global warmings set the polar icecaps a sail!
Be an individual or Get Out, stand up, fit in, turn it, tune out, turn me on, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, because it’s sink or swim in this White-collared Blue-balled businessman’s world, and my inner tube has a hole in it, and the only thing I can get to inflate is the economy.
Someone should send the government a subscription to Cosmo, because quite frankly Church and State are having an affair, and it says, right here on page seven, that friends with benefits simply do not work.
Baby boomers birth corporate consumers – gentrified eccentric, General Electric! And everybody wants a piece of the pie, but with prices so high, you might as well die. Stock market crash, black market hash, God FORBID a gay senator – we only take cash. Buy, sell, trade or lease. I just want a piece of mind; fuck world peace.
Just incase your cell phone has no service, your Internet provider is on vacation, or you are just generally oblivious to the 6,000,000 watts of offensive flashing neon lights and raunchy explicit view-obstructing billboards, turn up the volume on your pace-maker so you can hear the media scream alternately: Try the combo meal, Jesus died for your sins, get your high school diploma online, God bless our troops, and BEHOLD THE POWER OF CHEESE!
Our fast food joints boast over 4,000,000 served; but how many are stupid, fat, illiterate, and sitting in front of their T.V. sets? We don’t need no education, but if we did, you better believe that we would leave no child left behind. So what if they can’t read? They can still count the calories on the side of their cereal box. Primetime, family time, quality time, anytime – it’s all a scam. Don’t be a sucker for corn syrup false advertising, or trendy packaging – even though I am.
Cross your fingers when you say the Pledge of Allegiance; one fucking nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all, bitch! Run with scissors and pray with your eyes open too, while you’re at it. Just don’t let Big Brother, Sister Mary, your parents, your principal, the school board, the PTA, NRA, FBI, CIA, CBS, NBC, MTV, BET, or VH 1 catch you. And NEVER SELL OUT! Even if all they want is to launch a mini-series, shoot a made-for-T.V. movie, take your photo, run some tests, draw some blood, or steal your soul.
An autopsy is being preformed on a has-been supermodel somewhere, probably a drug overdose. Your neighbor’s dog is on trial for attempted battery of a b-list politician. A celebrity gets the electric chair for insider trading. You wake up in a cold sweat and reach for the light, which is of course burnt out, not that it really matters anyway, you weren’t having a nightmare, it was just the American Dream.
Published 22nd Dec 2009
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Stephen Colbert would be proud. I *almost* didn't read this poem. I took one look at it and thought "Christ, it's rather long and seemingly unedited, I think I'll give it a miss". Luckily, I stop short of closing the browser tab and made a concious effort to actually read it from start to finish. It was well worth the read.
An honest, amusing, sometimes bitch-slap-upside-the-head, in your face critique of contemporary American (and to some extent Western) society. Very nice to read.
I'm not really sure what you could do to make the poem more accessible, in terms of thoughts not getting lost or readers not getting lost in it. Perhaps nothing, perhaps that's the point.
Overall though, worth a read or five.
An honest, amusing, sometimes bitch-slap-upside-the-head, in your face critique of contemporary American (and to some extent Western) society. Very nice to read.
I'm not really sure what you could do to make the poem more accessible, in terms of thoughts not getting lost or readers not getting lost in it. Perhaps nothing, perhaps that's the point.
Overall though, worth a read or five.
