Wednesday, August 08, 2012


Trapped by our Nice Things,
We soldier on.
The indomitable spirit of a
Set Schedule.
We look at the numbers and sigh.
It must get better, if only
We soldier on.

Trapped in our Conditioned Air,
The automatic sprinklers
Mock your tiny lawns.

Trapped in our Conditioned Air,
Staring at bumpered
Tail lights.

We sit in our Churches
And pat ourselves on the back.
We hang pictures of our penniless
In our Mortgaged McMansions.

On the rolling lawns of our
Golf Courses, we feel the
Closing in.

We built this.
You cannot take it from us.
It is ours.
"Blessed be the meek,"
But I got MINE.

I deserve this because
My grandfather beat Hitler.
This old house belongs to

The bad luck of my brothers
Is not my problem.
My automatic sprinklers
Sprinkle a MIGHTY LAWN.
A lawn decreed by God.

That I would go to a good
That my job be deemed
Important enough to keep (for now).

That my evaluations would be sufficient.
Here, and in the Hereafter.

*  *  *

My father's money,
And his father's money before him,
Says I get to gamble
With your money.

My car's leather interior,
The space-aged dashboard,
My commute to work,
My eventual comfortable retirement.

Light beer.
High definition sports.
Hardwood floors.
Wife in yoga pants.
Pacified children.

These are the promises
Made to ME by a successful
Chain of theme restaurants
That are sprinkled
Among the strip malls and
Malls Proper.

Places themselves in their
Rightful places across the
Six Lane Avenues from such places
As PF Chang's and

I have earned this.
I worked in a vacuumed.
It is I who chose to be born
To a woman who chose to be married
To a rich man.
That is my wisdom.

I drink a refined combination of
Craft Beers and watch
The Right College Sports.
On magnificent, wall mounted

My yoga panted wife
Works hard also, and
Our Children play
Video games on the biggest
And go with us on the biggest

And this stuff is OURS,
And one day this stuff with be

How dare you blame us
For having nice stuff?
But think:
If our positions were switched,
You'd want to keep your stuff too.

Same as me.

But I would never feel like you.
Outside Looking In.
I would never want the system
Even if it worked only
For a Lucky Few.

We all get the
(to spring from the loins
of the rich)
It has to be that way.

Otherwise, the story I
Tell myself
Doesn't work.

A system that works for some
But not for others
WORKS (for some).

I got mine.
Screw you.

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I am the author of 5 books: Android Down, Firewood for Cannibals, The Cubicles of Madness, Robot Stories, and most recently, Various Meats and Cheeses. I live and write in Michigan. My website is at