Stop and Shop Strike

The Stop & Shop strike v. Game of Thrones. In Game what’s not made plain is the condition of the people compared with warriors and queens. There’s no mention of land-clearance, tree-felling, pruning, chopping, digging, hoeing, weeding, branding, gelding, slaughtering, salting, tanning, brewing, boiling, smelting, forging, milling, thatching, fencing and hurdle-making, hedging, road-mending and haulage. As for the strike, most of us supported the cashiers and clerks— cutting benefits and pensions when CEOs make millions. A few pennies more for ice cream and tofu a leg up for our neighbors and comrades in labor. But don’t get greedy, power-hungry— we don’t want the supermarket to go out of business or the Army of the Dead to extinguish us. A red-tailed hawk observes what small mammals, birds are in the clearcut, awaits the moment to strike. Three balls, two strikes, full count. Aaron pitched carefully, slow strikes and the opposing team scored. Transit strike. Part-time tutor, food deliverer, illegal immigrant, school bus driver, supermarket bagger. Let labor flow like capital! Full tank of gas! In your dreams, you kick ass. In your daydream, you’re breaking bones, killing mean dogs with bare hands . In my childhood dreams, I fought side by side with my best buddies against the Army of the Dead. I wake up to a lightning strike and my dream incinerates. The strike is over, like a thunderstorm. Still a half dozen or so episodes of Thrones before it sinks into the past. Will women save the world? Anything’s possible. Nothing changes in Williamstown, Willie, except the seasons. The wee hours, the bored minutes, the second guesses, the town sewer department, the collector of taxes. Pitcher’s elbow, runner’s knee, reader’s eye, you live until you die. That’s no answer. Without the Mexican and Canadian borders the White Walkers would dissolve like an aspirin in seltzer water. The sun is up, the strike is over next episode of Game is Sunday the White Walkers attack some of our favorite characters croak but I guess humanity survives though the weather is ominous. The habitable zone around the sun is moving outward as the orb expands getting hotter as it grows older. Earth a billion years ago was smack in the middle of the turf but we’re now half-in, half-out exposed to the sun’s ardor, agony. The sun a dragon eating its babies, torching cities we’re gonna hafta outsmart it hold Labor Day barbecues on Mars.