The Pitch Deck

The keynote speaker takes the neon stage,

A visionary for the modern age.

He wears a fitted shirt of modest gray,

And tells us how we’ll seize the coming day.

He points a laser at a sprawling chart,

A masterpiece of corporate, sterile art.

The metrics rise, the synergies align,

He drinks the Kool-Aid, and it tastes like wine.

He smiles a smile that stretches past his face.

We are making the world a better place.

The engineers are typing in the dark,

To engineer a revolutionary spark.

A brand new app that measures how you breathe,

And monetizes every sigh you heave.

It tracks the micro-movements of your thumb,

To serve you ads until your mind goes numb.

For what is freedom but the right to choose,

Which flavor of distraction you will use?

We optimize the human, set the pace.

The shareholders convene in velvet rooms,

To safely isolate from looming dooms.

They look at heat maps of the global poor,

And calculate what they can charge them for.

A micro-loan to buy a drop of rain,

A subscription service to ignore the pain.

The borders fall, but only for the cash,

While humming servers burn the earth to ash.

The profit margins win the human race.

We are making the world a better place.

The sprawling warehouses are vast and cold,

Where algorithms dictate what is sold.

The workers run like mice within a maze,

Beneath the camera's unrelenting gaze.

They pack a plastic widget in a box,

And race against the ticking of the clocks.

They cannot pause to rest their aching feet,

To satisfy the wealthy on the street.

A drone delivers it with silent grace.

The influencers filter out the grime,

And sell you branded joy one at a time.

They pose upon a mountain made of trash,

To generate a bit of sponsored cash.

Look at the flawless texture of their skin,

Ignore the burning forests they are in.

The algorithm pushes what is loud,

To pacify the angry, starving crowd.

Just keep on scrolling, never leave your base.

The politicians offer hollow prayers,

While trading stocks on all the world's despairs.

They cut a ribbon on a failing dam,

And sell the voters on another sham.

The rivers dry, the temperatures ascend,

But quarterly returns must never end.

The final dividend is coming due,

Paid for in full by everyone but you.

The ledger balances without a single trace.

The oceans fill with our discarded greed,

To satisfy a manufactured need.

The glaciers melt into the rising tide,

With nowhere left for any living thing to hide.

The dying coral reefs are quietly erased.

The billionaires are plotting selfish schemes,

To build a rocket from our stolen dreams.

They recognize the planet's lack of worth,

And aim their heavy thrusters off the earth.

They leave behind the wreckage and the smog,

The poisoned rivers and the choking fog.

They wave goodbye to billions left to die,

As fiery exhaust lights the blackened sky.

They seek a pristine, undiscovered empty space.

We are making the world a better place.