Poem: A Brief Presentation of Capitalism

9 March 2001 | Poetry

I spray you with alien art forms
You spray me with love
Isn’t that a good market system?

You steal wooden heads from Africa
And sell them to the rich;
While I rob living heads and sell them to the poor
In spirit.

Isn’t that a deal?

Once there was open space; we conquered it
Now it sells for a dollar a cubic foot.

Want anthropology?
I can get it cheap.

Want existentialism?
A smile costs only a fuck, and democracy is not expensive
Unless you want the real kind, of course,
And that costs:
Five million tons of bombs,
A million deaths,
And several thousand electronic torture chambers.
But then one gets what one pays for
These days.

Can we make a deal?
Death is very cheap this week,
But love is cheaper still.

Well of course there’s only one brand!
This is a free-market system
And you can have any type you want
(As long as it’s dead)
And you can do anything you want
(As long as you do nothing).

Are you some kind of a wise guy?
What are you asking all these questions for
If you don’t intend to buy?
Haven’t you observed what happens
To those who don’t want to buy?

Yes, well I thought you’d understand.

Just let’s remember
That this is a free-market system
In which there are two great and important freedoms:
You are free to buy
And you are free to die.

The two being of course
Delicately interrelated.

Please try and choose quickly, there isn’t much time
Reality closes in an hour.