the media
three brief poems about the media and its dystopian influence
i.
strange (flavorless) fruit
shoot(s) from world stage(s),
(strange juice)
diffuses downward,
manipulating masses,
advertising bankruptcy
of personalization.
I am what I am:
(broken, not adequate)
disguised emptiness.
I want to be
(what you want me to be).
ii.
show me the way
(to the stars) //
I want to be like them
(rich, happy, loved,
and adored);
beautiful people
(with beautiful problems)
of all complexions
(but my own) //
(((who frequent masquerade ball
orgies and control the
weather with their witchy
sex rituals and (not-so)
subliminal messages in
pop song lyrics //
(with seemingly
infinite variations of the same
four (or five) chords
and the same
four (or five) emotions)
and high production quality
perfume commercials))) //
I want to be what I see on TV.
iii.
Even though we are all
Big Brother now,
make no mistake,
Holly Wood is a white
Californian woman with
(the most striking)
eyes of
(gradient) green hues
(and unrealistic standards)
and she told me,
sorry,
I tend to swipe left
on Asian guys.
