Big Brother

There are no prophets,
nor wise-men, nor seers:
They are of former times;
of bygone years.

No apocalyptic proclamations,
nor fortellers of doom.
We would not hear them
in this room

There is a programme,
there are sounds and lights.
It goes on, ceaseless, -
Endless days and nights.

It shows us others' lives,
people we do not know.
Like bees around their hives,
we swarm around their show.

We'll vote them out,
throwing them out by mobile phone.
Don't tell us what it's all about-
Like them, our lives are just on loan.

Who are we to place our vote?
Not God, nor deity, nor prophet,
For by dawn of day we will be smote-
by fist, by gun, by rocket.