The techni-color television gives off enough light
to catch my attention. Half awake, I wonder why
the suited man believes in the book he is selling—
“Escape your debt — I can show you how to do it tonight”
It’s the slogan he keeps shouting at me, but the lie
of the morning didn’t come from this guy yelling
his insights on open and closed 30-year loans—
The on-air Preacher, staring me in the face, bemoans
my fate in the Lord Savior Jesus Christ—fuck religion
they offer me free books with a quick telephone call
after they show near-death scenarios where “God” intervened;
Touching on my nerves doesn’t affect my life decision—
this asshole, a scrooge, paying witness to all
the monetary tricks of the holiest hierarchy— The God-Machined
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