What to do With that Degree in Marketing
Buy and wear old thrift store clothing and film yourself
strutting through abandoned post-pandemic shopping malls;
memorize and perform Shakespearian monologues for
homeless people on the streets and record their reactions;
paint yourself onto a billboard and stand perfectly still for
as many hours as your bladder allows; ride a horse through
downtown traffic completely naked, singing opera arias,
and see how long it takes for someone to call the police;
write a book about people who write books about people
who write books; sell your skin-space to corporations so
they can tattoo their logos on your body for exorbitant fees;
build a giant landing platform in the middle of some field
for when the aliens arrive, complete with stadium bleachers,
and allow investors to get a front row seat for the big show;
do whatever you want, but don’t call yourself an influencer,
the most unimaginative and generically insipid term ever;
if you influence the world, the world will let you know.
