Computers do all the work now
we can spend our time being greedy
eaten away by the voraciousness of money
with the best and the brightest captured by Wall Street
not for our skills but our obedience
to the lie that we'll die if our money stops growing
or if we run out of new things to buy
when it's only the extra that's always extracted
that needs this lifestyle to live,
that needs charcoal fields
where once there were cities,
that needs families
who once had real homes.
Red ivy climbs innocent buildings
where everyone tiptoes, afraid that a child
might blurt out their secret
hidden in plain view
behind a shameful veil.
O how I lack compassion,
how I missed the sheer joy of it all,
the bantering over frivolous things
like deadlines and profits and sales goals and spin
that bloom and wither without consequence
just the feeling we have
glad to be connected to a purpose
for that moment.
