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flamingsword"Merry Capitalism!", says the bell-ringing man, vest bright as a winter cardinal. His pot is full of lies and gold. His silver bell tells lies cheerfully. Won't someone help the poor? Oh, won't you help the poor?
I search for the next shiny thing, the next, the next.
Last year I went home stuffed with candy and starving, peckish as a starling in the bleak mid-winter.
Is there a party!? I have a fear of missing out, you see. Is there a dinner? A feast? A banquet in my honor? I must make up for all that I lack by stuffing your mouth full of shiny things.
I look up at the weak sunlight, at the tattered gold that is half a lie. Gold and lies, always such close friends.
One is silver and the other is gold ... that was in a poem I read as a child. I don't remember what it was about. Maybe I can buy another copy.
Maybe I can buy another book to collect dust on my shelf, gilt-edged pages full of words. Words with edges and guilt. Have I read any of these books? I certainly tell people I have.
I need a new thing, the newest and shiniest thing. I need to give you the thing that says that you shine, too, but all I have in my hands are candy wrappers. It is inadequate. Am I inadequate?
Like a magpie, I flit around looking for bits of bright tinsel, wrapping paper to brighten a gift that I'm sure I will find soon. The perfect gift to make you love me.
You look so terribly thin, lately. Merry Capitalism! Can I interest you in a piece of candy?
[Copyright me. Only nonprofit uses allowed.]
I search for the next shiny thing, the next, the next.
Last year I went home stuffed with candy and starving, peckish as a starling in the bleak mid-winter.
Is there a party!? I have a fear of missing out, you see. Is there a dinner? A feast? A banquet in my honor? I must make up for all that I lack by stuffing your mouth full of shiny things.
I look up at the weak sunlight, at the tattered gold that is half a lie. Gold and lies, always such close friends.
One is silver and the other is gold ... that was in a poem I read as a child. I don't remember what it was about. Maybe I can buy another copy.
Maybe I can buy another book to collect dust on my shelf, gilt-edged pages full of words. Words with edges and guilt. Have I read any of these books? I certainly tell people I have.
I need a new thing, the newest and shiniest thing. I need to give you the thing that says that you shine, too, but all I have in my hands are candy wrappers. It is inadequate. Am I inadequate?
Like a magpie, I flit around looking for bits of bright tinsel, wrapping paper to brighten a gift that I'm sure I will find soon. The perfect gift to make you love me.
You look so terribly thin, lately. Merry Capitalism! Can I interest you in a piece of candy?
[Copyright me. Only nonprofit uses allowed.]
no subject
Date: 2020-09-17 03:27 am (UTC)I offer three counters to late stage Capitalist Consumptive, in the spirit of comment fic.
1. Bells made from the tops of canned goods consumed. The smaller ones most suitable for modest trees.
2. Foil cone balls. These used to be made of milk bottle foil-not sure what the best modern material would be, probably have to cut circles from split open mylar chips bags after they're washed. I think some of the smaller snacks might come in a coppery color in addition to the prevalent silver. Might not need a full circle, since that's just how the foil came.
3. Origami boxes out of colorful ads instead of newly purchased wrapping paper. Naturally, reusing wrapping paper is an option or making reusable boxes from already owned fresh wrapping paper. Do as your habits and storage suggests.