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banshee poem by andrew lovatt on

poorman a. blackstar : a.lovatt



by poorman a. blackstar

Walking downtown arms full of name brands.
Names seen on screens in magazines.
Exclusive chains, boutiques.
Everything on sale.
You work to buy.
You spend to get.
Need no longer an issue.
She is a vessel to be filled with products.
She bought hair.
Cut, colored, permed.
Every body part needs a product on it, in it, over it.
You work to acquire.
Poor people want more money so they can consume too.
They want to look just like you.
They want food from restaurants,
coffee from cafes, wine and beer from bars.
Movies advertise hot products, lifestyles.
There are unopened packages lying in your basement, forgotten.
not the need for the product, the need for the purchase.
When you buy, you are a part of the world,
the flow of currency, the illness, consumption.
Color for your face parts.
Rings for your lobes, jewels for your neck.
Impossibly priced watches for your twisted wrist.
You can pay down on it, lay it away, pay with credit.
Buy one and get one free, two for the price of one.
Buy hair, buy nails, buy lashes, and buy breasts.
Buy magazines so you know what to buy.
Men pay hard cash for masculine things.
Cornered clothes, muscles.
They trade money for the unsafety of motor vehicles.
They buy for their children.
It means they love them.
Afraid of their wives.
Afraid to say "no".
The more they spend, the more their women love them.
Children trained to consume by and between cartoons.
Ever since industrialization.
Ever since something shiny was dug up.
Something to cover every odor to be sure you fit in.
No money for texts and ed, to make the disabled equal.
No money to feed the ones who only want to consume food.
Awaking from your Sleeping Sickness another disease has overtaken you.
Did you know you were part of a market?
Someone is counting on you to make them fat.
Some food chain; some sitcom writer.
Former serfs and slaves.
We used to produce.
Now, we consume.
We don’t care about quality.
What for?
Throw it out and go back to the store.
I monkey you and you monkey me.
We need every product on tv.
You eat anything on your plate.
You buy anything on sale.
If diamonds are in vogue, he’s got to have it.
Nevermind who died digging it out.
Lab rats for market research.
If it’s shiny and new it can be tested on you.
If it fails, oh well, put it on sale.
Even if you already have one.
We want the faster version, the newer model,
the upgrade downloaded on the fastest modem.
Useless products at twice the price
lose half their value over night.
Stocks are like mood rings and pet rocks.
Important technology.
We sit before the screen like chimpanzees.
We take what we are given.
Demanding nothing but more.
Drugs and alcohol; sugar and salt; sex and violence.
You work eight hours for one night out.
Three-hundred-sixty-five days for one automobile.
Pleasure can’t be measured monetarily.
We want what’s in vogue.
This year its Spanish and bisexuality.
Next year it may be French and bestiality if it can be marketed smartly.
Sex is not an expression of love or affection.
Not even a physical release.
Its something to get from someone.
But, just because you can get it, doesn’t mean you should.
And, just because its legal, doesn’t make it good.
You are what you eat and you pay for what you do.
Everything on the menu isn’t meant for you.
How much do you really want to consume?
Are you consuming it?
Or, is it consuming you?





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