spent grinding.
Tenderised flesh
clung on creaky bones
wants nothing more
than to plonk
down, wedged in the best corner
bearing his contours.
How many years will be spent in this position
imperceptibly withering
at home in he's web
fat congeales 'round his thoughts.
A sustained stare off ensues
Where attention goes
so too
energy flows,
he and the idiot box
suck life out eachother.
As he switched on
settled in
he knew
It would either be
mirror mirror reality
sliced
diced
Kitchen theatre,
Talent show business,
or all three,
combined.
The celeb, sucks aways, soaked in conceit
desperately holding his roll up,
he witters on
Well aware he is the spectacle
but oblivious
the weight of his words
would not trouble an ant.
No comments:
Post a Comment