Flat Screen Opiates
by Odin Roark

“Step right up folks!”

To a world of scrambled brain escapes and trivia sight and sound,
a place where only the apathetic and lonely dwell for endless hours,
cozying up to the Shopping Channel and the ubiquitous reality show world,
there is questionable hope.

Glazed eyes wander aimlessly across thirty-eight inches of two-dimensional mirages after another looking for the enigmatic oasis-high to make them feel of worth,
ultimately immersing their bloodshot eyes into Find A Mate or late-night infomercials for their last fix.

What is it that lures so many to inactivity,
where cells lie dormant and synapse movement ceases?

Is it the delusional promises from the soapboxes
that load the thoughtless into a Metropolis assembly line
of close arteries and intellectual atrophy?

Such beckons the view of a make-believe world,
a momentary life for the pretenders,
a never ending hypnotic pain killer for the masses,
the inevitable lethargy for the unconscious wannabes.

“But, wait. Call us today and you can receive not one, but two…”

“Can’t wait for next weeks reality view, tune into…

“By popular demand, we’re offering…"