Biztopia
By John Kaniecki
Mister Grumblecock was a
traveling salesman
A dinosaur in this virtual
age of click and buy
But he is an element in the
overall Master Plan
A first hand witness who can
effectively lie
All the while keeping a smile
upon his face
Mister Grumblecock is a man
of luxury
Who will not settle for the
common whore
While drowning himself with
martinis into obscurity
His sole desire is more, more
and of course more
Like a false gospel with
promises void of grace
Biztopian experts desire an
asphalt domain
A world where digits on a
computer are supreme
“It is good for business” no
reason to explain
Efficiency and compliance the
ultimate dream
Who cares if Mother Earth has
a desecrated face?
Mister Grumblecock is
experienced in the deal
Weapons, narcotics, sex
slaves, it’s all the same
At the end of the day nothing
is truly real
Everybody is a piece in a
gigantic chess game
What is wrong with keeping
the poor in their place?
Mister Grumblecock sits
riding in a jet plane
Lusting after the stewardess
desiring a tryst
He is a fine businessman,
what more to explain?
Still in his mind a lingering
doubt does persist
Exactly why is he running so
hard in this race?
Mister Grumblecock died of a
heart attack
Not a single person cared
enough to mourn
In this world of life we can
never go back
It’s a one way street from
the day we’re born
Mister Grumblecock always the Jack never the ace
