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This car of a thing
this 90s must have
can't live without
I've made it
kind of a thing.
Sleek like me
mean, the business.
I pull
blue-ice edited athletes
with shaven pubics
and symmetrical
well engineered
knowing smiles
focussed on winning
on the winner
on my ultimate
aphrodisiac
Psion
in my fat
spider
rubber tipped
hands.
Guildford
January 2001
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I feel the desire: the unabashed greed
for something beyond a standard need
to be best and first, the one to exceed
all expections on your block. To succeed.
You've got pop culture of the new millenium all wrapped up with the Me Generation and the reluctance to age of the NOW. Good thing the Next Gen is crankin' out inventions inspired by cartoons or we wouldn't have all these techie handhelds to play with.
I like how you've captured the middle age crisis of the turn of the century here. Tiny (smaller the better) gadgets marking success and reflecting penis size, over the sports car (faster the better) and blonde marking denial of aging and inadequacy.
Lots to enjoy in this poem. The tight lines. The original imagery. Nice to see someone using contemporary technology in a poem...and getting good metaphors out of it.
I worked for a while in Guildford. It was a very ugly time in Britain, "Me first!" sums it up. Guildford was particularly populated with monsterous people, Thatcher's brood...
