We are the surrogates, when mother's milk ends

we take over, weaning on objects of desire

when liquid turns to gold.

 

Mummy and Daddy consume and so

it will be with the little ones

small models of a greater future

we'll start them with

soft toys then as their awareness grows

dress them up in more grown up clothes

show them heroes

the American Dream

sweet dreams while they pine.

 Everything their little hearts desire

shall be for hire,  each season a bounty

mother's milk now far behind

liquid turned to gold.

That's alchemy!  and as hopes become commands

we supply demands.

 

Psycho fracking, no avenue blocked

no formula lacking.  And the beauty of it is

grown ups one and one make two, so simple

to make another little darling for us to attend to

when mother's milk finally turns to gold.