Music To Shoot People By

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It floats through the air

like gas gas gas,

tasteless, soulless, pointless

Muzak.

Dirges designed to deaden thoughts,

to unmind you,

to stop you realising what you do,

like picking up the snack you won’t eat,

those tools you can’t use,

that tat you don’t need.

It’s like novocain for the brain,

and it’s everywhere the same.

Imagine what these mind-rotting tunes

might do to those poor few

with minds already rotted.

To that plinky-plonky valium,

that humdrum strumming rhythm,

that synthesisered latin trot,

they might look for tins of beans,

and maybe frozen peas,

they could hunt for bargains

and for targets.

Walking through the shop I see

why for some it could so easily be:

music to shoot people by.