MIKE TEEVEE

the weeks are slipping away like high school romance
we’re left with spare change and hangovers
and time and again someone to celebrate the day with
we’re depositing our hearts into swiss bank accounts
when we should be selling them on street carts
we should be listening to one another
but the air is polluted with wifi networks, with
bluetooth signals, with awkward silences,
with televangelistic exorcism

the air is polluted with the sound of all the wrong things
and the coffee shops are full of wolves in hipster’s clothing
the tables are all reserved
and all the empty houses are not for sale
three hundred million bulls in one giant china shop
three hundred million cats in a burlap sack
three hundred million people
trying to pull the actors off the television screen
and put them in their pockets and purses

a nation full of jabbering jaws
a nation full of broken ears

a nation full of kids
who ran away from home

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

READ “THE KIDS’ TABLE”

10 thoughts on “MIKE TEEVEE

  1. Pingback: WOKE UP IN SAN FRANCISCO | FLASHLIGHT CITY BLUES

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