Tastes are changing, flavourless broth.

Used to be effort came forth to create content,

But now it comes fourth,

Effortless mediocrity over a beat keeps us content.


Production standards drop a jaw

Fruit drags us to the dance floor.

But what are standards for

When one about a presidential banana

just came thru the door?

Nothing. I guess we’ll swallow raw.


Music and media used to reek of creativity

But now there’s no accountability,

no old-fashioned responsibility

Spit it, ship it; that’s productivity.

Audiences ingest mediocrity,

Screw craft and consistency,

Ignore anything near memorability,

F**k posterity.

…or maybe this is just me, wallowing in subjectivity.








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