Poem on the Business of Life

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I marvel at the big players on the television screen
and the screen that makes the players big
I vicariously feel the triumph that my heart does not seek
on battlefields lonely among comrades closed in rank

This does not mark predisposition, prejudice or closed ends
Only, that there are certain things which the soul must abandon
for the cause of the greater good,
while the greater good draws us in,

–possessed by camaraderie, the homunculus
appeals to the mind to go along
disregarding the course of humanity,
to abandon the brain within–

I too am playing along
beckoning others
but not wanting them to follow

I am disingenuous in intent
always aware of escape paths
and open doors to the past

My child’s feet carried me through years
of back aching grief
and decades of employment without relief
giving homage to the machine for my consumption
I’ve pulled myself, visceral gears grinding
through decades of gravitational pull
leaving scar tissue and scoldings
from physicians who knew better
about financing medical necessities

But there is no class warfare
repeat repeat repeat
until the phrase is ubiquitous
until perhaps we have conquered disease
infirmities, anatomical peculiarities
structural defects, unpaid for surgeries

Cut to an obese business executive with a Germanic accent:

“Everyone who CAN pay SHOULD (shwoodt) pay. (The word “pay” is spit into the camera.) We are performing this service in the interest of humanity but it costs money. We understand everyone needs a shot to protect themselves from Covid-19 but everyone who can pay shwoodt pay.” Looks into camera with blank look. His suit is a sort of burgundy. He is bald, with thick black rimmed glasses and a graying dark beard and mustache that makes him look like an actor you can’t quite place from a scene you can’t quite remember. A voice in your brain is saying, “oh, it’s that one guy!” But you know it isn’t and it bugs you.

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