Here’s to the Death of Pac Man

The best minds known to Ginsburg sowed the seeds

Of the strange and twisted crop we’ve come to reap

Twisted lines of crazy culture and consumption

The mechanisms keeping us from sleep

Here’s to the death of Pac Man

Pellet-eating and pill-popping maniac

Spare the blue ghosts, and the next level up

He won’t be coming back

Here’s to the death of Pac Man

His plastic yellow head is so much waste

Decaying yet not biodegrading

His smile caved in from all the methamphetamines he chased

We’re consumed and consuming, strung-out ghosts of ourselves

Or wingless former angels on a date with gravity

Less impact than an asteroid but enough to generate

The poison clouds and cleanup left for Generation Z

In a Florida swamp, not far from the cape

Where the shuttles launch unless they explode

Fuel for flies and crocodile hunger

Mario’s machine gun can’t save us from this commode