We harness the tool of survival
Reason and logic to unfold
Generations of crystallised concepts
Mind fodder, bereft of soul.
Production, efficiency, progress
They tell us till we die
Hands outstretched empty
Like beggars on the sly.
Leaving behind our concepts
Values of power and control
Our young taught how not to be
To become that which they are not.
Modified each time, imperceptibly
Well-worn subjectivities to gain
As ruling ideologies see fit
For materialism is the game.
It is about the show now
Are you on Twitter and T.V.?
Is your photoshopped image
Glossy in a rag of make-believe?
Whoring yourself out?
Court-jestering for fame?
Lest you feel a nobody
In this court of shame.
Are you sad with all the make-believe?
The struggle to earn a dollar?
Well they have SSRI’s, SNRI’s, TCA’s
All manner of anti-depressants,
Blockers, Noradrenergics, Antagonists
To keep your anxiety at bay.
To shut you up and nullify
The longing that speaks not its name
The DSM grows steadily
And sections you insane.
Profit moguls itemise your sadnesses
A ‘disorder’ is what you have
You need to be productive
To be a c-i-t-i-z-e-n they said
Therapy is what you need
To train your mind right
To stop hearing the longing
And blind yourself to sight.
If you do not like the show
And your heart baulks with sickness
If you are not interested in playing
The DSM (American of course) thickens.
You must have a disorder now
And Therapy you need
To learn how to be productive
And go back to sleep.
You are a well-tailored subject now
You must not shout, nor scream
Abuse you can take, just a pill away
You need to sleep, to dream the dream.
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