Eleventh Plague

-or- Pez/Anti-Pez

originally composed in early 2004 as a review for The Locust Plague Soundscapes (Anti 2003)

...and after persistent showers of cash-register chowder, shoulder to shoulder with walking post-it-notes, chattering houseplants and McHumanoid consume-o-trons siphoning the ankle-deep and non-negotiable overturned-honeybucket-nectar [gentle shopper, I tell you they are all clogged follicles on same hairy-backed beast!], pinned, wriggling on the Styrofoam plate for another unmistakable prelude to more of the same radioTV that plugs the [overseeing equitable cancer distribution][author’s note: thanks Mom!] TVradio that plugs the magazinebillboard plugs the newspapermovie plugs the fry-o-latervideogame plugs the ballplayercellphone plugs the lotteryticketvideopokermachine that convincingly [if you’ve been a good little stick of chalk] impersonates a good milkdrinking flagsaluting man-suit impersonating the new machine that is slated to replace the other newer impersonating machine that replaces him, but almost too slowly -

...and after Lil’ Chatty-Kathy, Johnny-Pulls-Up-His-Tubesocks and Mrs. Mayonnaise have rehearsed for the 956,832nd time their same great new engrossing infomercial, powerwashed their concrete lawns, and broadcast shimmering crystals of monosodium glutamate across the glutamate of monosodium deserts -

...and after marinating in the overflow from some unhungry-golem’s sewage-hose feedbag breathing-tube [doesn’t the new one just totally (and at such well-delineated intervals!) almost remind you of that other new one, but in almost that total way that, like, you don’t know which of the other ones it just totally almost reminds you of, or whether it really reminds you of it at all?] [author’s note: yeah, totally!] hormone supplement cocktail...

...wouldn’t it just perforate your circumstances to discover that for every Pez dispenser, there’s an equal and opposite anti-Pez dispenser?