Brian Hinckley
Buffalo, New York

Corporate America

Coffee replaces blood,
televisions replace the mind.
Just another day here,
in corporate America.

Driving to work,
one by one.
We march to our deaths,
in small metal coffins.

Eight hours a day,
sometimes more than forty a week.
Lives grinding away tick by tick,
Death watches and waits.

We try to find moments,
yet they hide in the mundane.
Erased from the computer,
there is no room for those anymore.

Day after day,
week after week we burn.
Our candles run on caffeine and electricity,
burning hot and fast.

We all eventually fall,
giving in to corporate America.
No time to sit in idle,
Death is on a schedule.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Terra Bartlebaugh 16 October 2009
I like this poem. It almost reminds me of George Orwell and Big Brother and how materialistic the world is, and how the future has become the present, and how technology has had such a big part in our lives.
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Chuck Audette 24 October 2008
This is right on the money! er, so to speak. I can feel the last nice days flying south for the winter while I tick tock away in my cubicle..... -chuck
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