The Battle Over The Remote Control

Some people
Will sit through anything,

A documentary
On falling cobwebs,

A slideshow of
Passing traffic,

The hair on a fat man’s arms
Blowing in the breeze,

Ex-convicts wallpapering,
A priest baking cakes,

An estate agent sneering,
Truck drivers discussing soup,

The dumb pretence
Of entertainment

Smeared across
Their eyes.

Right now

There’s a wolf boy
Lost on the Mexican-US border,

He sings poetry from a dying planet
And sums up our fears
With an high pitched ocarina
And a dancing prairie dog,

But it’s the same sorry tale,

The viewing figures are low,

The dumb
Have won


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