The Justify Sonata for Brain and Colon

What I bought I now sell on Ebay

to gain a few bucks for what

I no longer use

which I used to justify

my existence

and the string of bullshit

to which I attached myself

Now I realize

the manufacturer

is bidding up the price

on my used item

against the great unwashed

in order to keep their new product

valuable in the marketplace

so that snobs will keep buying

what they probably make

for pennies on the dollar

They bid on my thing

to keep their thing posh

(It's like tattooing your cock

with the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel

instead of a barber pole)

And that's the point isn't it

to build a stack of shit so high

that people will feel good

they've hired you

or bought your product

and you thought this

was going to be a poem

filled with rare Amazonian orchids

and nectar drool snot droplets

with rare and phantasmagorical fauna

enough for ten expeditions

and one-off high-buck phrases

to make you feel justified

to spend this time

to absorb what I write

when a poem is only a piece of shit

sticking out of the poet's colon

able to make that musical splash

in the toilet of your imagination

So how is that a sonata you ask

(the poet references the title

of his majestic creation)

hey it's a musical term that makes

you think I'm edjikated

and trying to pull

images from various encyclopedias

of human experience

when all I am

is another corporation

to be sure a poor one

trying to game you

into a purchase

at a price that will make you

believe you have something

of value

Thank you

dear reader

because my share

of your unconscious mind

is now assured

Copyright (c) 2012 by Barry G. Wick