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Adrienne Veronese

Poet, Novelist, Author, Essayist, Humorist

The Medium is the Message

 

"You had your time, you had your power
you've yet to have your finest hour"

-Queen
Radio Ga Ga

 

in a world where
mythology creates itself
the gods we couldn't
bring ourselves to name even
noticed that we failed
to take ourselves seriously
so they gave us boys named George
in a members-only culture club
they gave us a lady named Gaga & other
plastic fantastic iconoclasts, they
let us choose our idols
while channel surfing,
infected us with Bieber fever
& left us with the video of it
going viral on the internet.

because the best place
to hide something
is in plain sight
and because reality
can make the difference
between meltdown and
profit margin in a game of
plausible deniability
they diminished the value
of reality altogether
by giving us fact-free America
on reality tv.

first they isolated us
with forced perspective
then they gave us
online social networking
where we could congregate
with others just like ourselves
along lines created for us
out of convenience
by advertisers &
intelligence analysts.

will we log on one day
to discover our friends
aren't imaginary, they're
just invisible, when
at any given moment
we are easily convinced
we cheated ourselves
(whether i kissed a girl
and liked it or not)
or is it only that this is water
in an industrial zone
after much seeking,
finally finding
its own level?

you could be Buddy Holly
and i could be Mary Tyler Moore
and it still wouldn't matter
because WE ARE ALL ON DRUGS, we
are told that dancing to the beat
can only result in smoke on the water
are told that our own voice can no longer
be submitted for consideration
unless it's auto tuned, are told
that nothing interesting comes
without plastic wrap, that
nothing of value is free, that
if it seems too good to be true
it probably cannot be returned
for a full refund.

yet we continue to make offerings
at the altar of these gods
of our own making, we
continue to count ourselves
among the tribes that have
been lost to them, we congregate
only when we are forced to
forage publicly among the
genetically modified ingredients
we take home & consume
while watching the food network.

there is little point in asking
if we are there yet
as we fight our way through
traffic congested symbols of
this Great Society, little point
in wondering what station the
radio is tuned to, since it all
comes over the speakers
preprogrammed, whether through
our own design or not, whether
through personal device or
Clear Channel, it is
abundantly clear
the last DJ signed off
before heading to the Mexican
radio and from there it is
much more than a long way
to the top if you want
to
rock
&
roll.

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I love your mind,as reflected by our conversation on todays bus stop and ensuing ride; but especially in your verse. perhaps kindred spirits surfaced!This comment has been moderated by the blog owner

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