DRIVEN
by Joanna Gilman Hyde
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:15pm
We are driven on a cellular level
snaking our way in vehicular shells
out of Our Homes over The Highways
to restaurants & shopping centres
where the precious sight
of one Left Female Hand is held
by a boyfriend’s across a table
while She texts with availability of Right Thumb
next My Daughter breaks into tears
in the kitchen isle of Wall Mart
when I hedge on buying new plates
because I fail to see any
I like
& settle for 2 boxes of 16 piece Zen Plum
glaze-crazed
in the Light
of My Kitchen
Joanna Gilman Hyde 
Contemporary consumer daydream.
— waking up to the reality of cheaply made products.
Enough to want you to go back to sleep and dreaming of a better world.
Thanks, I enjoyed reading this — did you write it or did Davies?
T’was I; I simply pinched his fairly well known lines for the opening of the refrain. The song was recorded by a band called Eco Worriers.
That’s a clever poem. I’m not sure if I’ve heard of the band. I wonder how many other poems are titled “Driven.”
oh, i adore this. everything about it sparkles of reality.
Thank you shrinksarentcheap — your comments carry extra weight.