He doesn’t like
Political correctness,
Even though all
It means
Is not being
A jerk
To others.
At one of
Many thousands of
Enormous stores,
Filled with cheap things
Fabricated by impoverished
Hands in parts of the
World out of sight and mind,
Lavishly benefiting one
Obscenely wealthy,
Compassionless family,
Whose snickering members
Give almost nothing
To charity thanks to a
Fiendishly clever
Tax-evading foundation,
Another employee’s
Already meager hours
Are cut to reduce
Operating expenses,
Though routinely
Expected to work overtime,
Off the clock,
Or be replaced.
It was done to me,
So I’m going to
Do it to others.
I didn’t have it easy,
I had to fight for
Everything I’ve got.
I pulled myself up
By the bootstraps,
I shouldn’t have to
Support anyone else,
They’re all lazy,
I’m hard working,
They don’t deserve
Success like I do.
Let them shrivel
On the vine if they
Can’t figure it out,
It’s survival of
The fittest.
She comes to
His home
Once a week.
She cleans the
Toilets, washes
His clothes.
She vacuums and
Dusts everywhere,
Mops the floors.
Her ever-present
Smile is a
Welcome sight.
He interacts with
Her in a
Polite way.
Below the surface,
He disdains
Her kind.
Organizing a spaghetti feed
For a sick child
Instead of supporting
Universal health care.
Raising funds for local schools,
Then voting for people who
Cut education funding and
Endeavor to privatize it.
Gathering clothes
For the poor while
Demonstrating against
A living wage.
Commonplace paradoxes,
Caring people destroying things
They claim to support.
Unhealthy contradictions.
He’s concocted a story about
Being passed up for
A promotion due to some kind of
Supposedly unfair quota.
Diseased ego deflated —
Hurt feelings —
Perceived loss of face.
Rather than bounce back,
He takes it as a personal slight and
Mounts an ever-growing campaign of
Vitriolic vituperations and
Dramatic diatribes against his
Alleged oppressor,
Ignorant privilege flailing.
He affirms that he’ll never stop
Taking action against the
Nefarious system that bestowed
The spoils upon someone else.
Even thought he’ll
Never publicly admit it,
He’s really on a crusade
To impose his point of view
On unsuspecting others.
Insightful people have told him
He’s dogmatic and inflexible,
But he just looks at it
As being steadfast
In the face of too much
Whining from too many milquetoasts
Who don’t know right from wrong.
He grew up on a frontier of sorts,
Where you knew who the good guys were
And what color hats they wore.
He’ll never concede that
His cherished belief system doesn’t
Lend itself to nuance,
Or rely on evidence or fact,
You either get it or don’t,
He knows he’s got it,
No matter what anyone says.
Corrosive obsession with
Maximizing profits.
Feverishly channeling
Rivers of money to
Investors –
Private equity firms –
Executive bonuses,
Rather than
Supporting employees
Who will then have money
To spend and help
The economy prosper,
Or provide value to
Consumers who will be
More loyal and make the
Company more successful.
Scream communism when
The words fairness or
Sharing are mentioned,
Though they aren’t
Political terms,
Just basic civility,
Treating hard-working
People with respect and
Giving customers an
Honest deal.
She felt unwhole and did the unwholesome.
She felt unloved and loved no one, including herself.
She felt unsatisfied and so her life went.
A slow, tortuous, paralyzing journey to places
She didn’t want to visit, with people she could
Not have cared less about.
Flipping through the images stored on a chip
As cold and impersonal as the experiences
She pretended to enjoy.
