Steve Green
The Age of ClickPounding the keys again
Peck..Peck..Peck Letting life's frustrations fly off my fingertips onto the serene screen Tonight my thoughts exceed the speed of my compromised connection The horror of being frozen out Locked up by heartless tech Words now bottle necking inside my clogged hour glass Oh to have a paper and pen! but stolen office supplies long ago were all utilized and never replenished No need for such relics Or so I thought when I purchased this pricey device I shake rattle and roll my accursed hardware Bad idea Skull and crossbones appear on my solid blue screen Fatal error This is the final proclamation The red power eye grows dim Signaling the end of our relationship All my brain wave residue I had deposited on a chip the size of a gnat now terminally dead Gone to that place in the clouds where data angels reside Time to start over again as I scour my existence for parchment and quill pen Maze NationMy little bratty
lab rat friends scurry round their desperate mazes All fighting for that scrap of cheese they have been conditioned to believe in Oblivious to the eyes in the sky controlling their walled in lives If only they knew that in the end it matters not what they do For the game is rigged There is no damn cheese There is only the struggle Souls Out
Piercing the darkness on a gloomy night
Weary pilgrims are drawn to the light All ye faithful flock to beacon bright To worship at the alter of this sacred site Baby Santa lies away in a manger Swaddled in consumer currency Surrounded by merry elves and reindeer All doing their part for our economy The doors swing open at midnight The assembled masses storm in Seeking the salvation this sale brings Prices so low they seem like a sin The Fallen Angel proclaims to all, “Welcome to my Bargain Nativity!” “Christmas may be the domain of God, But Black Friday belongs to me!” Goody Two Pair
The hollow man of high virtue
Lives his life morally contained Yearns for a love he can never share Desires suppressed and restrained The object of his untapped affection Forever in his line of sight Does she share his silent regret? A prisoner of doing what is right |
Unabridged Version
The crowd gathers by the river bank
For today’s big televised event Copters buzz round the scene To witness the descent They’re blowing up the bridge today That span no longer in demand A relic from simpler times When people wanted to be together Drone Nation
The faithful come together
At the designated place To get their instructions From the voice with no face They do as they are told Think with one mind Solid as a rock And also as blind Zero Sum Dance
Do what you say
Say what you do You check on me I’ll check on you We can be tight Pounding the drum The beat is relentless Yet nothing gets done Thought PoliceWardrobe malfunction!
we just got flashed a nip (gasp!) Flat screens are steaming! Dirty little boys everywhere wet dreaming! Did that hairy degenerate just drop an F Bomb? Bleep his murky mouth! Seven second delay his gosh darn profanity! Blood and gore always may pass It's taboo body zones that make us aghast Slapping fig leaves over offensive body parts Censorship too is art Gotta protect innocent kiddies from seductive video vice We need to bubble wrap them all 1950's black and white antiseptic Enter the Thought Police Our moral wall of shame Swatting down themes they deem obscene Cultural guardians Forever offended Playing gotcha games like good vigilantes do Wouldn't it be lovely if just for once their moral indignation could be aimed at the true obscenity of injustice? Life on the MedianThere comes a time
in every life we achieve the tranquility found in that moment of pure epiphany When we finally accept the reality we'll never be a famous celebrity No autographs No quote seeking media dogs or obsessed groupie sycophants Not even a cheesy TV retrospective when we die Happiness is accepting that the ultimate victory of reality is survival Being that spunky little cog living contently in ordinary anonymity |