The Brain-Eating Cyclops

The Sun came up upon the left, 
"Good Morning!" on TV!
Shows all day and late at night
"Late Night!" is what we'll see.

Day after day, day after day, 
We stick, nor work nor motion; 
Upon the couch we sleep and slouch 
With our six pack of potion.

The very brain does rot: O Woe! 
That ever this should be! 
Yea, crappy shows and laughtrack woes 
Do take their toll on me.

The dramas too are sappy stew
The plots both lame and dry.
A weary time! a weary time! 
How glazed each weary eye.

The Bachelor sees her lips with glee,
Her locks yellow as gold: 
Her skin as white as leprosy, 
Who thicks man's blood with cold. 
The muscled hulk beside her comes, 
The twain are casting dice; 
'The game is done! I've won! I've won!' 
Says he, and giggles thrice. 

The many stars, so beautiful! 
While they all sell with lies: 
A thousand shiny things 
They push; and so alas, I buy. 

Now the "Breaking News!" and it
Is murderous and gory: 
It bleeds, it leads the news each night, 
They know we want that story.

Then there comes the weather show, 
A fool out in the flood: 
Telling us to stay at home
While he tromps through the mud.

TV, TV, everywhere, 
And all the brains did shrink; 
TV, TV, everywhere, 
Nor any thought to think. 

But now this spell was snapt: once more 
I viewed the TV screen, 
No longer rapt, my mind now apt,
My way out could be seen— 

'God save thee, brain dead TV fan! 
From the fiends, that plague thee yet!— 
But now not glum?'—With my shotgun 
I shot the TV set.