Magazines Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Articles and magazines lie in disarray around every office
and home in America.

Unread, tossed aside, cut up and sent to bins of recycling,
created for the monthly moments of minutes in reading.

Folded, painted, piled high in corners, kept in storage
never to be heard of again.

Likely aspects of predictive behavior in the future, yet
they are still published and sent out month after month to
addresses of people paying money wastefully until the end
of time.