AMERICAN KULTURE: Dead On Arrival

And your mind broils

Up sights and sounds

Of Amerika

Reveling in its kulture.

And it’s D.O.A.,

But doesn't know it.

The neon, glitter

Hollywood trash-action

Sitcom capital of the world

Has seduced its own idiot mind

And become faceless, soulless,

Vacant in its abundance;


With its core of genius

With its mass of waste product people

It cranks out an adolescent

Naiveté doggy biscuit pet bowl

Gruel to a world that props it up

In a perfect macro-model of co-dependency

One –weaning – the other



In sycophantic disco rhythms

Or bubble gum pop

Imported Negro beats

Of the fashion-frayed,

The monster egos prance and swoon

And stare in mock violent

Attitudes

With sex-laden bumperoo TV souls



They mask themselves

They cheat youth's vigor

In solipsism, vacuous,

Spreading self-worship

Of an exuberant nullity

It latches like a canker sore

To the lip, in the cancered hearts

Of the countless

Where – in all-accepting ignorance,

Of “Western” “modern” ways –

The GLARE grows

Lichen-like

In the shadowy festering hopes

Of the many who yearn

For fame and glory and fancy fun



Amid a quasi-fabrication,

Inside the franchise of arched temples

Where “hamburgers, fries and a Coke”

Ring and echo as the holy mantra,

Amerika has risen and fallen

Just needing its face bloodied a bit.

But while it rights itself,

Its nation-clones will bungle on

And fall, like red-faced dominoes.


June 9, 1995/ Nonsan, Republic of Korea