Modern publicity creates its own fantastic lore; feed
the family this yellow unsaturated margarine and they’ll
jump, smile and kiss you spare, wash their clothes in this
cleaning product and they’ll be clouded in achievement
ensuring success in work and class
Spray this perfume on your wrists for armies of elated
servicemen to follow you around, taste the new tooth-
paste and angels will smile through you, the shine will
lighten your aura too and you’ll sprout wings lifting you
to fluoride heaven where a bevy of beautiful beings
Will serve you with more toothpaste; eat our ice-cream
seductively and the very devil and his demons will carry
you off to a wonderful hell of enjoyable decadence, get
your flu shot in time and ward off all pestilence – a list
of miracles goes on and on, one spray of this amazing
New deodorant and sparsely clad women will appear like
genies to do whatever you want, insure your car with us
and we shall return it to you even from Timbuktu – I
want to live in commercial land and watch an ape play
a ukulele before it steals my too-dry drink, I want to see
my clothes grow whiter with every wash and my body
shrink with every touch of wonder milkshake in a tin,
I want to swing down buildings and climb back up
again for an overpriced ice-cream, I want to see my
money grow in supermarkets while little supermen
Jump from cans and clean my home when I spray the
product in the air – this is heaven indeed – I fear
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