Ode to the Consumer

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay 

I want your time.

I want you.

Look at these new shoes,

pay thousands, you can have them too. 

There may be blood inside

who cares, drink up, give them a try.

Attention! Targeted audience, these soles will make you fly.


I want your time.

I want you.

Look at this tasty food…

Gluttonous flesh balloon, here, take two.

Pin the recipe you’ll never make, culinary fool.

May I offer an over-sized grill for meat?

Never mind your car has a leak.


I want your time.

I want you.

What are you sitting on, pleather?

Try this expensive new cush.

Get comfy, chill, let those bones turn to mush.

Fall asleep watching remakes, the same old thing,

hollow productions void of meaning.


I want your time.

I want you.

Buy that dress they wore.

Look! A ballgown in a grocery store.

Pricey makeup from a sweatshop

failed promises to make your eyes pop.

Shiny new things call forth

click more, we’ll tell you what you’re worth.


I have your time.

I have you.

Now go forth, internet creation, be like everyone else.

Aww, you’re sad?

Gobble this addictive pill to ease that.

Take them all, you don’t want to come back.

Hand over your identity,

I’ll keep it on the shelf.

Need a stool to reach? It’s two days to ship.

You’re right, that’s too long.

Just forget it.