Email Poem

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Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
as a child
the amazement with little things,
the wrapper on the present,
(instead of the present itself)
shiny objects & furry fuzzies,
all brought with them an
enjoyment which couldn’t be held onto---
crumbling brittle &
swiftly falling through the hands with the
consistency of 
grains of sand.

the passing years allowed for
a new notion to be instilled within by those without
(for the child themself
is not to blame)---
like a hypodermic needle being driven into the
skull,
the already-corrupted who have
succumb to the environment of dog-eat-dog
wretchedness, 
which western “civilization” demands,
watch quietly with mr. smithers-ish sneers
as that same once simple child
is raped of their wonder,
strapped into the seat of eternal labor-for-the-sake &
beat into submission,
running like a cartoon cop with a stick protruding out in from of them
(with donut swinging from a string),
they learn quickly that 
what matters, is not the development of a better self
(whose own progress inside can
benefit those around them through mutual 
conversation & communication),
but instead is the accumulation of
things.

these things to be acquired 
differ much from those things that could bring smiles for
hours when the individual was young,
as they are not meant for enjoyment
but instead,
are needed to assert an achieved sense of worth
as defined through those who have already 
given up every other option 
which might have existed
prior to becoming material addicts.

the accumulant needs more things
so that those around them will respect what
s/he has done with their brief life,
because this is how respect is gained in the strip mall 
we call america
&
after the accumulant has begun to gain enough things
so as to be coveted by one who has
less things,
they need to spend time & money gaining
security, so as to protect those things
from being taken by others who 
have not played their cards in a manner 
best suited for the capitalist gang bang,
as the accumulant has done.

the accumulant shows no further signs of being human,
but instead has become a gerbil
who must continue running on the wheel 
in order to produce work for the system that will give them
things &
with these things
a tower of excrement 
symbolizing a life of 
building & building
(according to “the way that it has always been”)
has been constructed---
as long as the gerbil continues to run
the tower continues to grow &
security around its base 
continues to be strengthened,
until that day when the gerbil can no longer
run &
the tower is ransacked,
dismantled &
destroyed.
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