Niche Market

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
GODMACHINE Anthology

Submitted: November 13, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 13, 2011

A A A

A A A


I suppose I was probably perfect too

on the day before I was born,

but now I’ll never be anything-

I’ll always be nothing at all.

Every surface that reflects

demands something different of you,

but do you sell your soul?

We can never get out of here-

blank space is so eternal:

our minds are molds to be remodeled

by every commercial we watch,

every lie we swallow,

because Cosmo tells us

that spitting is impolite.

I suppose I was meant to be something;

a label was probably printed,

but the media machine

found that I didn’t match up.

The discrepancy that was me

was swept under the carpet

and otherwise forgotten

because there was no niche market.

So now I find that I don’t fit,

because by any marketing standard,

every product is carded and catalogued

so the system can run smoothly.

When your sell-by date expires

you have to be sold,

because you wind up in the discount bin

at 50% of your value

if the media machine decides

that their demographic doesn’t want you.

I am uncategorized,

therefore can’t be qualified,

can’t even be quantified,

which means I can’t be priced or shelved,

so in this big box-store world,

I simply don’t exist.

I suppose I was probably perfect too,

until they found

that I wouldn’t fit

the role I was meant to grow into.

What did the media machine

decide about you?

 
 


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