Chupacabra
Every commercial proudly proclaims "next"
As if newer is better
And negates the need for subtext
And everything we'd gain
Outweighs all that we've lost.
Everything's brighter in the land of star-crossed
Where self-worth is bartered and battered and tossed
Solely on the merits of "latest"
As if "greatest" is ever-evolving
And fate is a mere whimsical child.
Every day another new invention
That defies the spirit of convention
Because wisdom needs an intervention
When it's hampering our lives.
How did we get here?
From the Beatles to Bieber? Mozart to Minaj?
Kierkegaard to Dan Brown? Hank Aaron to Bonds?
And as time ambles on
Can anyone really claim that we've won?
And why do we often speak of time killing
As though only the future deserves the top billing
In this un-watchable soap opera we've made of our lives?
From sheepskin and robes
To Armani clothes
Maybe the tatterdemalions had it right
And in our hiding ourselves from their plight
We've actually lost the most ground.
Though "progress" abounds,
We search and we search for what will never be found.
When did life become easy?
And are we so quietly tamed?
And far in the past
Beneath industry's ash
Rome had a temple to a god yet unknown
And for all that we've "grown"
Unknown is unnamed
And maybe now we're the same.
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