The Polluted Mainstream

                                          The great idea marketplace
                                          Is a forum of freedom lost
                                          Where notions of varying merit 
                                          Were weighed and sifted and tossed.

                                          A big asset to our polity
                                          Was this neat device
                                          Where gems of greatest quality 
                                          Would bring the greatest price.

                                          Where verity like finest cream
                                          Would float up to the top,
                                           It was a smoothly run machine
                                          We thought would never stop.

                                           Now the folks who ply the trade
                                           Know well what they're about,
                                           They're not selling pearls of wisdom,
                                           They're just selling out.

                                           David Martin


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