Poison--with a Hopeful Ending

How can we deal

in this society of fear?

Everyone is made out of plastic, and I get the horrible feeling that

anyone I turn to for help gives me

an evil clown smile and turns

into a robot in front of my eyes.

So waht can I do

when I have a human heart

beating inside a styrofoam chest,

a teflon 26 rib cage,

bovine growth hormone and

a whole litany of preservatives

coursing through my veins,

but for some sick reason,

by the grace of some deranged God

I've got the sensitive eyes of a

real human to watch it all go down?

I'm not just talking about myself

here.

This is about you, too.

How can we pretend

that the perversion and

destruction we are watching

and complaining about in our independant

films and (albeit rarely) on the ten o'clock news

is not also happening inside us?

While most of South East Asia

and Central America

are being de-forested so we can

eat cows and use disposable chop sticks

and while chunks of earth are being domesticated

into National Parks so parents have a safe place

to take their children camping on summer vacation,

isn't that same shit going down inside our heads?

Why doesn't Al Gore make a film about that,

huh?

Our emotions are being

hijacked by market research.

People working

for the machine

to exploit people.

Who stole the head of the Deer God

and why don't you just please give it back

already,

so he stops turning everything rotten

from the outside-in?

Our dogs are wearing clothes!

Our food is giving us cancer!

We fed cows to cows!

to turn a profit!

Were the television,

the i pod,

the cell phone,

the almight internet

to all stop working

suddenly one day,.

what would happen?

We would panic!

because nobody is telling us

how to think or feel

or what to buy

or what is good and cool

and what is not and lame.

Oh my god,

what is happening to us?

Am I the only one

whose eyes and brain

have not been hacked

by the media

and turned into plastic?

Until the Deer God gets his head,

we are going to be smothered

in smog and oil spils and

carbon monoxide and

non-biodegradables and

landfills and little yorkies

wearing sweaters and

golden women with hairless

vaginas and acrylic fingernails and

TERRORISTS!! RED ALERT!!

Better get your duck tape!

Oh, and by the way,

you're never going to be good enough

and you'll never figure out

what makes you happy

and you'll never make enough money

so scramble around afraid

until you're completely paranoid

and paralyzed

and then hopefully you will

take a safe job

as a school teacher,

or an accountant,

or even a secretary,

and then you can give up

on those pesky dreams

because dreams are a very

very, very, very, very

dangerous thing to have.