Potato Chips
When Moby Dick sells potato chipsWhen all the pigs have wings
When all the boys and girls are spied upon
By cold electronic things
And all desires are quantified
All wishes, hopes and dreams
Like the big Mordor eye that spied
On all the data streams
Where mammoth heads and mouths spew lies
Without stopping day in and out
You never knew that it could get this bad
When they take everything that you had
Away and give cheap imitations in return
A piece of tin for silver then a pound of flesh for gold
An eyeball with a sliver, look around you have been sold,
By cold electronic things
When boys and girls are spied upon
When all the pigs have wings
When Moby Dick sells potato chips.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 728 times
Written on 2018-03-05 at 22:38
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text