1 Cent For 15 Minutes

I want to kill my television.

Compelled by the calamity
of the fame of the day,
these mongers for a penny–
their paper-mache skin begins to shudder.
No swagger is big enough
for the shit that spews out from
the mouths of these sloths.

Like cockroaches
in smoke choked closets
peeking into the light,
they scatter underneath cloaks of stupidity.
Spineless acts only to gain 15 minutes.
Not even the drunken bums,
or the whores
walking the alley outside my window,
panhandle for that much.