The Scandalous Casting Couch

DRUMROLL GEN Z! YOU HAVE 3 OPTIONS.

1. GIVE YOUR BUM TO THE BOSS!

2. GO HOME!

3. GO TO WAR WITH THE BOSS! SHREDDING HIM TO PIECES & KEEP YOUR PANTS ON!

   
   

   DEATH IS ON THE CARDS FOR MY BOSS, WHAT ABOUT YOURS!

Nepotism — Rigged for the Masses

// poetry

Spiritless nepotistic outlaws,

Obscene vulgarity masquerading seeking applause,

Uncles romancing women their daughter’s age, whereas

Talented bloke plays the sick father’s role, velcro beard Santa Clause.

When the wells of talent sprung forth,

Out came their pincering claws;

Unearthing the plasticine bubblewrap from crap related to crap,

When nothing works, for tier 2 and 3 they seduce with a bra strap!

Casting couch is the casting lap,

Like an open tap there’s a talentless fountain;

Smelling putrid and horrendous, an orchestrated ensemble bequeathing a nap,

Little man got a little slap, "Big Small Boss" took to center stage with a little crap.

On one serendipitous day,

I clandestinely entered the game,

I scored a myriad of goals on both sides,

Got them screaming my name.

Constricted behind the nepotistic headliner,

All the real “talents”, come out of the closet,

Siphoned Sheen on the ass of the mob affiliated laundering bosses,

Powered up by the poor obsequious talented faucet.

Unveiled Un-curtain,

Without latent unsung talents,

The circle of nepotism,

Death-Certain.

Only the meritorious shall survive,

As the sands of time decimate this charade,

Where the little “Big Boss” used to rail,

Over there he shall be mutilated & bare laid.

Eternal fade, a raid, as the meritorious dreamer, skips on the ether in his bold escapade.

Powering no rigged acts,

Like the rest of the talents dead,

Burning the casting couch,

Certainly the pernicious casting bed.

Transaction upon transaction to the couch,

As they spring up in affluence selling a dream;

Tier 2 and Tier 3 mere sacrifices,

It’s a rigged cake for the rigged cream.

Your cash = their ticket sale,

A credit to the hammer,

Debit to the nail.

Oh shoot?! They were all related!

What a pleasant cracking down surprise!

Oh wait?! I’m surreptitiously funding the lock,

For my own talented kids, this theatre ticket a career demise.

Cyclic loop: Stealing a self-made dreamer's thunder,

Is the signature move of the complacent silver-spooned thief,

Cheapskate, reprobate blocked the self-made organic opportunities,

Uprooted a perceived threat, like a half chewed red-jet betel leaf.

If you nip the bud in the bottle,

Throw them off your scent,

You will come to find entertainment is for dimwits,

For the dustbin Big Little Boss was meant.

If the barter is I,

They need to Die.

"Showbiz" is nothing but a shadow prostitution catalog and the box office is nothing but a money-laundering machination. The same theory of mind applies to other verticals & industries like business, corporate, performing arts, etc.

Oh! hush hush!!!

I digress...

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