What's up World

Tacky kind of world
Between glossy covers
Reams of emptiness
Shallow subliminal spaces
Lock up time
At the prison.
Your neon orange jumpsuits
Are mental markers
Know how well
You embrace hell
In your cortical cages.

Beautiful dream
Swallow it
Take the blue pill
Dream as big
As the suburban villa
You build.
Park a Porsche
There's always one
To fit your budget
Your need to signal
Status quo
To style icon world.

Logos gone for a toss
The logo is all
Tacky hieroglyphics
On the wailing wall
Pictograms
For picture perfect people
Airbrushed
Photoshopped
Willing sheeple.

Copies of copies
Images of images
The highest ideal
Is Imitation.
Of Imitation.

We've done
Plato proud.

Please tell us
The lint you brushed
Off your jeans
The hair you flicked
Was all your own
Move

Dance choreographed by
Others
Dancers puppets
The spectators puppets
The government puppets
The dreamers
You guessed it
Puppets on a pill
Programmed to confuse
Yet please.

Euthanized before death
Lively anorexic wraiths.

Tacky lights
Fade out signs
This alley's blind
Black hole night.

The coffee's fried
Just right
In burnt plastic cups
Your plans tonight?
Do tell,
What else is up?

(c) Amrita Valan 2017