Poem: Prime Time TV

The time has come, friends; the TV landscape is barren

Quality TV has come to an end

Jerry Springer rules the airwaves now;

Full House rears its ancient face;

Stone Cold performs his Stunner with perfect grace.

Cannot we find something better to do?

Must we stand thus enslaved by the syndicated lords?

Why must we watch such empty programming?

Is it our destiny to live upon the couch

Eating Nacho Chips and scorning Brussel Sprouts?

I seek fulfillment, which cannot be found

Upon the frozen ground

Of late night TV

I see the weakness in the mind that cannot tear itself away

From the Dark Lord Jerry, and his wasteland of controversy

Barren, empty, seeking joy from the pains of others

Where none is to be found

Why must we be slaves to the glorified violence

Of national news?

Why?