MAD MEN

      At Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, the games
      That people play intrigue us all, beguiled
      By how these ad-men multiply their shames,
      Show after show, their characters defiled
      By sordid love affairs, back-stabbing moves
      And intra-office rivalries that score
      Them points, but scar their souls, which proves
      Mad Avenue insane, a rotten whore.
      Yet still we tune in faithfully to gawk
      At fresh abominations week by week,
      Watching the clever ways they find to hawk
      Heinz beans or Jaguars, as the ratings peak.
           Perhaps instead of trash, a tragedy
           Unfolds—with pity, fear, catastrophe.

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