Conspicuous Consumption.

-->

CONSPICUOUS CONSUMPTION

1899

Veblem economic theory.

“ to display wealth and income”

Buy

more

to fill

the coffers

of the rich.

“You will never be good enough”

unless you have the clothes, hairstyles, cars, handbags, houses,

five bathrooms, two children, a cat, a dog, an albatross,

 a swinging lantern.

Insurance for your death, your house, your pet, your health, your car.

Buy latest phone, laptop, smart TV,

  Been photographed at

the Opera, has seen the latest movie, read the latest thriller, travelled around

the globe,

sniffed the coke,

drank the wine,

eaten blue oysters,

drank squid ink,

pigged on pork,

stuffed on steak,

veganic with vegies,

flown solo in a biplane, skippered a yacht, sped round

a race track in a red Ferrari,

been a Barbie on someone’s arm,

Slept in a palace,

Slept in a Laird’s room,

to impress or for snob value, or because it was

on offer.

 Slave to the common market,

bought and sold for a sparkle,

Always a new toy on offer.

Pick me,

now,

Wow!

Instant

gratification.

VGOW

28/10/19

Horses for causes.

HORSES FOR CAUSES.                                                                         

Flee!

Wild

brumbies,

while you can.

Breathing down on you

comes the ranger man.

He’ll round you up and

sell you off to the knackeries.

You’ll be turned to glue,

curdled up for batteries.

Perhaps

some of you will be

dog meat. It is true.

Change.org has put up a site,

just for you.

They have taken your cause to the world

but Pollies won’t go

there, won’t say a word.

“Why is this so? “Whispers the wind.

“Wild horses in Kosciusko have always bin.

They

are celebrated

in poem and in song,

Now you say, they don’t belong.”

Sternly, The Ranger,

loudly

exclaimed,

“We Park people need to protect

all native flora and fauna,

we do know what’s best.

This is Crown land and

belongs to the Queen.

She pays our wages,

We

must be seen

to be doing what’s

right for the land, rivers and trees,

for the birds and the bushes and

even wild

bees.”

Spoke the Wind, in a

bluster,

“Well, give the land back to the tribes.

They will do what’s best.

They managed this land long before you entered this quest.”

JOY

 JOY.

Smoke

curls

shyly,

silky wisps,

embrace brilliant blue.

Two clay, olden day, chimney stacks,

Send a warming message

skyward.

I saunter along my stone-pitted way, and marvel

at a new concrete

footpath.

Council reclaiming its right to

blanket earth.

What a joy It will be for mothers wheeling strollers, and babies catching a sky view,

A joy for kids on bicycles,

 tinkling bells, too.

And a joy for those in wheelchairs,

beetling along the landscape

joined by those with walkers,

leaves flying in their windy wake.

I prefer the rutted, brown earth,

connecting

me to ground.

Apply censorship to this thought.

Learn to be stable.

Do not trip up or I ‘ll be found,

broken and in pieces, blinking upward, on a mound.

VGow

Chaotic Fibonacci.

11/06/19