Post Modern and De-Constructed Post Structuralism - Andrew Barham

The killing, crushing, loneliness,
Lost and all alone in the madding crowd –
Everyone wants to belong
So why can't I?

It's time to move on, time to go;
This is not the place to build a dream –
These times we live in …

We live in a Mercantile Age in which
The people who really govern us
Know to the nearest farthing
The price of everything
And the value of nothing,
But we don't even know that
As we stock up on the latest commodities –
Do we even care when the price we see is everything
No matter how high its hidden costs?
The merchants have bought us off with trinkets
Beddazzling us with a glittering array of shiny toys;

In the vast shopping malls
Cluttering up town and country alike
It's Chritsmas Day every day
When it isn't Boxing Day –
Black Friday …

Black Friday, the invention of the biggest box store in America
Is spreading round the world, becoming a pandemic.

In America, Black Friday coincides
With the day Americans give thanks
For the deliverance of their founding pilgrims
By the country's original inhabitants
Who were then ruthlessly exterminated
For the audacious and unforgiveable crime
Of being in the way
Of Progress …

“Gather round all you clowns
And let me hear you say,
'Hey! You've got to hide your love away!”

While they drag us towards our own extinction
In a world governed by Greed and Envy
Where Selfishness is protected by the Rule of Law
And the grasping claws of misers
Are thieving and gathering up every scrap they can glean
From the poor and the dispossessed
While they rob our children of their future
As we bow down our heads and give thanks
To the Seven Deadly Sins presiding over us
That they've spared us one more day
From the looming oblivion devouring our souls,
Is it too much to wish to be delivered
From the trespasses of those
Who trespass against us for the sake of personal gain?

When is enough enough?
When does it become too much?
How much wealth can any man have?
This seems to be the final question
As we pray for one more day
To see us through the endless night of eternal oblivion
Waiting in the shadows just beyond the next moment –
The aching, crushing loneliness
At the root of Existence …

Andrew Barham