“It all boils down to jobs,”
the Secretary of State told
the American Public in answer
to why we must go to war.
Threat of shutdown hovers over your factory.
Fear of layoff ulcers your office.
Job security erodes
at all levels of the job ladder.
Firms can’t be expected to promise
a raise in salary every year.
The thought of longer vacation time
is out of the question.
Psychiatric megaclinics have no choice but urge
displaced workers overqualified for
dead-end low-paying part-time jobs
cash in their retirement money.
The banker’s mistress fears she looks worse
after liposuction.
The developer’s call-girl jeers at the environmentalist—
“Ten years ago you were yelling—
‘We’ve only got ten years to save the Earth!’”
The executive’s prostitute likes her Caribbean cruise,
even if most of the time looking at scenery
there was a big cock in her mouth.
The professor lectures his students
who faithfully record each word—
“Like the laws of physics,
the laws of economics can’t be broken,
whether sloths loathe lathes no matter,
whether Bushmen only work 15 hours a week no matter.”
The astronomer wears a suit and tie
even when alone at night at the telescope.
The thought the Solar System is so big our Earth compared to it
is as an atom compared to the Earth,
The thought some Galaxies are so big our Galaxy compared to them
is as an atom compared to the Earth,
The thought how do we know the Universe wasn’t formed complete
just last night with all our supposed memories,
Do nothing for him: 45 years ago, yes,
but now he pays them no mind.
Now all he sees is his son who hates him and who he hates
juggling three jobs to study poetry
so he can write things like:
there are more planets with Utopias on them
than all the beheaded heads in history,
or this Universe is just an alveolus
in the lung of a lungfish
in another dimension.
10 miles away in another city an 8th grader
writes above the urinal—
“Show hardon for blowjob.”
100 miles away a welfare bum is interrogated
for stealing a wallet.
1000 miles away a soldier tries to push his intestines back in
but it doesn’t work.
2000 miles away the owner-of-the-owners-of-100-factories’ day
is spoiled discovering benefits for workers
are cutting into profits.
How to get more out of them for less?
3000 miles away Eskimos must sell their wilderness
or set up the oil rigs themselves:
how else can their young men make money?
Every day more and more Americans feel they won’t be happy
till poets quit complaining and get a job.
Antler, from Milwaukee, offers $10,000 reward
to anyone who can disprove his work.
(published in Permafrost, vol. 17, 1995)
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