Media Conglomerates
Nameless, faceless, blue-suited, briefcased pomaeded peacocks
Strut the streets, stepping out of their sleek status symbols
Imperviously impersonal market managers pinpoint precisely the price of slaves
And dictate the desires of last year’s average family
While producing carefully calculated demographically unassailable unpalatable
Boxed DVD sets of Soylent Green and other statistically sterile offspring
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Published by Ms. C. G. Tripp
The new business cards have arrived and with the speed of virtual press, I am self-titled: Catherine G. Tripp, Writer/Investor. Left brain and right brain have battled for dominance all of my life. I wrote the marketing materials for my mortgage brokerage, had a personal finance column at Examiner.com, wrote essays, short stories and poems published in school papers and magazines then literary journals. If my writings were a color, they would be yellow, bright as sunlight, highlighting the salient portions, not obscuring the past but deconstructing air brushed stories, finding humor and courage in the unloved corners.
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