Those Magic Ads

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I spent my gilded youth upon
the floor with comic books,
with Superman and kryptonite
and Batman smashing crooks.
But even better than the clash
of titans in a pack
were the ads, those magic ads,
that shouted from the back.
Soldiers by the millions spilled
from boxes for combat --
X-ray glasses let you see
through skin and bone and fat.
A monkey in a teacup
could be bought for chicken feed.
Magic crystals in a bowl
that grew with lightning speed.
Sneezing powder, pepper gum,
exploding cigarettes;
supersonic, atom-bombing
cardboard Air Force jets!
I sent in all my quarters
ever-hoping for a coup
to make my pals so jealous
that their faces would turn blue.
But all I got back in return
broke down, could not abide;
even my poor monkey
in his teacup up and died.
And so my super heroes
were all working as mere shills
for plastic Japanese junk,
rubber vomit, other frills.
I learned a fool with money
will not keep it very long,
if he insists on heeding
Advertisement's siren song.
 

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Want to do more with Windows Live? Learn "10 hidden secrets" from Jamie. Learn Now