Clutter

Useless clutter.
Coats our lives,
Like dust on the 20 inch
Wood paneled
Color television
That gets
125 channels
Including the pay per view
Ones for free
Because of that neat
Little black box
My cousin bought
On the black market.

Worthwhile thoughts
Evade our minds,
Like what's really
Right and wrong.
In the face of prison time
And courtroom justice
The iron fist hammering down
The lies of law
For your own good
And mine,
Because anarchy
Would slay us...

Substances coat
Our lungs, our gums, our skin,
In order to please,
You or I
For reality is too harsh.
The truth is at best
Boring.
Escaping into something else
Somewhere else.