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Commercialism (Or How to Buy Insecurities)
Hey, girl in the shampoo commercial.
What makes you so beautiful?
Yeah, your eyes are big and your lips are full,
But why does that make you special?
You toss your perfect hair around your face,
Letting each luscious strand fall into place.
It’s blond, of course, the prettiest shade of fake,
But is compliments your skin: tan and freshly baked.
Do you really think your shimmering hair
(Which, I admit, does cause me to stare)
Will make me rush to the nearest store?
Well, I’ve fallen for that trick before.
And my hair didn’t shine like the sun,
Like yours does when the commercial’s done.
But I’m assuming you have studio lights
That make your magic hair golden and bright.
And my hair certainly didn’t smell like berries.
In fact, it emitted a stench slightly scary.
It smelled like the chemicals in a factory
That were processed into the bottle you sold me.
I secretly hate you, except it’s not a secret.
Because I yell at your hair so fluorescent
Ever time I see your commercial on T.V.
And, again I ask, why are you better than me?
I bet you’re not clever enough to write
A poem like this, full of witty insight.
So continue to lather, rinse, and repeat
While I abandon my couch and it’s seat
So that I can drive to the nearest store
To buy Simply Seductive Shampoo…
And blond hair dye in shade 54.