A poem about how little we care about what needs to be cared for |
The papers pile high the news is unworthy to its past. (And too scary for its future) Besides, I'd rather surf the internet for instant celebrity access Whose babies aren't safe in that brand new BMW SUV with its gas sucking fumes that choke out my children Oh look Brad's adopted another orphan (with that slut Angelina) TEAM ANISTON Vulgar words eliminate races faster than the rockets they fire. Boy I am happy I live in the midwest, (the east and west coast shorelines are so easy to penetrate) Plus, ripe with natural disasters. Although I may live too close to the Mall of America. It's frightening, should I move? like propaganda, quick with little reflection until it's too late. Four hours and I am still connected to this web. (more like stuck) And waiting for that giant spider to swallow what's left of my own free thinking and intellect. Lets check out the latest poll Should Nick and Jessica get back together? yes or no? I still can't turn my head away from that glass box I heard internet killed the video star who killed the radio star Do you think that will be featured on Access Hollywood? Mechanically I click as my fingers turn away from another news flash: 10 soldiers dead from what? who knows I don't care I'm not in Iraq And what affects me more is if Justin Timberlake and Cameron Diaz get engaged (and no I would not like to hear about the lack of appropriate AIDS funding from the US) who by the way still believe in abstinence only education while NBC plays (soft) porn nightly and half naked teenage girls rule MTV. Still enticing to the point where two more hours have gone by and another war has started on the New York Times page But I won't look for either fear or lack of payment, the monthly cost is much higher then the money I must pay, the truth too blinding to see and I only wish to wallow in my celebrities. |