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I Haven't got a Daughter
I haven't got a daughter
I've got a telly-blob;
Ping-pong balls instead of eyes
Crisps stuck in her gob;
Her brain on auto-pilot
That strange hypnotic stare;
Laughing at the advert's
While slouching in her chair.
The technicolour images
All battering her senses
De-sensitised this girl of mine
And shattered her defences;
Now television rules O.K.
She's got remote control;
Her world, a 24 inch screen
Sucking at her soul.
Flicking through the channels
And chewing at her nails,
The goggle-box possesses her,
It's power never fails;
An electronic baby-sitter
Playing all the day,
And on into the dead of night
She wastes her life away.
I haven't got a daughter
I lost her long ago
To Brookside and Eastenders,
And every other show;
But wait! I've got her back again
I recognize that whining:
I never thought a power-cut
Could have a silver lining!
(Written July 1996)
poem
by
John Carter Brown
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