the lumpen proletariat were silent
enjoying that, for now, their TVs blinked
medullas chewed the spew that those tubes fed them
saved them from the burden of self-think
lives of rich and famous were presented
in accents that proclaimed a brain for hire
plastic lives and faces swilled their hogwash
those dudes can pitch and bitch like they’re on fire
nonsense spilled from corners onto tables
bunkum munched for breakfast and for tea
scalpels to lobotomise with supper
retiring then to dream of what could be
disorderly enactment of self-serving
nightmares of left behind in greedy race
another day another dose aspiring
to be the public plasticised of face
the mush that swirled solidified with access
till arteries, clogged up, forgot the brain
a lazy trickle inwards flowing downwards
that policy that never works again
the TVs spluttered then and heads exploded
potash of cells lay muckled on the floor
abstinence soon resurrected reason
alas, some brains would be a broth for evermore
a gallery of whispers twiddled knobs where
a panel of control determined cause
twiddle, twaddle, fiddle while we burn up
accepting every edict, all new laws
there’s a reason why the tube is cheaper, cheaper
the cheapest set in town is worth the sell
lumpen proletariat rejoices
one percent that fiddle do as well
scottishmomus 