We play the game of spoiled settlers
the prize always out of reach. She’s of an age
to believe, stars in her eyes, a hundred
thousand smackeroos will make her safe.
I’ve been there, but having lost my health,
read the fine print with a skeptical eye–
the one in the sky watching over us all
with lighted beams in that triangle.
We’re trained like puppies to chase
tomorrow, which we can surely buy
if we put our noses just here, on this grind-
stone and never, ever ask why: believe
there is a power moving us all toward
our highest good, if we’ll only
shut the fuck up and get on with it.
Preen yourself when you do your homework
in the exact ink required. Just
think if this passion were lit
for the return of the planet in her glory.
Escaping the yoke that drags us
in this ecocidal frenzy as we
focus on the wants of all we’re missing
the greed narrative so narrow
we can only see the lack of money,
beckoning with the next sure way
to enter our lives and enrich us
tomorrow. The billionaires’ insidious
story seeping into our hackable brains.