Unemployed In Greenland
© Surazeus
2018 06 20
How fragile stands the house of cards I build
on promise of the paycheck every month,
based on the process of my daily work
to maintain function of economy.
Clutching his stomach as he stares at light
of sun rays gleaming on the office window,
Samuel stands on edge of dizzy despair,
hoping to see beyond blankness of tomorrow.
Our bosses say they must eliminate
dozens of jobs to maintain fiscal budget
to operate the process of our business,
and my job was first on the chopping block.
The elegant grace of my perfect home,
the mobility of my well-tuned car,
the stocking of food for our daily meals,
these all depend on every check I get.
Our daily actions of productive play,
attending school, watching movies together,
going on picnics with family and friends,
will all be disrupted without that cash.
We developed sophisticated culture
for producing and distributing food
based on everyone performing their function
and receiving pay as reward for work.
But now my employment has been severed,
and flowing spigot of cash to my hands
was terminated, my fragile life style
will collapse into unproductive chaos.
What action could I perform every day
in rote position of employed mandate
to maintain function of society
so I can fund the drama of my life?
Other than tending garden in my yard,
to produce food that would nourish our bodies,
no other action would sustain our household
since I need money for mortgage and fuel.
We built this complex system of machines
producing goods in giant factories
connected by computers that calculate
flow of payment to fuel engine of commerce.
I nurtured pride in performing my part,
participating in vast enterprise
of running huge productive factories,
but now mask of my role was stripped away.
Naked in the dark of unsurety,
I stand at bottomless cliff of desire,
staring into bleak emptiness of fear,
confused at how I can mitigate dread.
Without this clear job to define my purpose
I tremble nameless on the nowhere road,
seeking clemency from people in power
who guard asylum of wealth with hard hands.
Gathering all his things in briefcase and box,
Samuel walks on eggshells through busy office,
dizzy on steep precipice of despair,
and walks out glass doors into blinding sunlight.
© Surazeus
2018 06 20
How fragile stands the house of cards I build
on promise of the paycheck every month,
based on the process of my daily work
to maintain function of economy.
Clutching his stomach as he stares at light
of sun rays gleaming on the office window,
Samuel stands on edge of dizzy despair,
hoping to see beyond blankness of tomorrow.
Our bosses say they must eliminate
dozens of jobs to maintain fiscal budget
to operate the process of our business,
and my job was first on the chopping block.
The elegant grace of my perfect home,
the mobility of my well-tuned car,
the stocking of food for our daily meals,
these all depend on every check I get.
Our daily actions of productive play,
attending school, watching movies together,
going on picnics with family and friends,
will all be disrupted without that cash.
We developed sophisticated culture
for producing and distributing food
based on everyone performing their function
and receiving pay as reward for work.
But now my employment has been severed,
and flowing spigot of cash to my hands
was terminated, my fragile life style
will collapse into unproductive chaos.
What action could I perform every day
in rote position of employed mandate
to maintain function of society
so I can fund the drama of my life?
Other than tending garden in my yard,
to produce food that would nourish our bodies,
no other action would sustain our household
since I need money for mortgage and fuel.
We built this complex system of machines
producing goods in giant factories
connected by computers that calculate
flow of payment to fuel engine of commerce.
I nurtured pride in performing my part,
participating in vast enterprise
of running huge productive factories,
but now mask of my role was stripped away.
Naked in the dark of unsurety,
I stand at bottomless cliff of desire,
staring into bleak emptiness of fear,
confused at how I can mitigate dread.
Without this clear job to define my purpose
I tremble nameless on the nowhere road,
seeking clemency from people in power
who guard asylum of wealth with hard hands.
Gathering all his things in briefcase and box,
Samuel walks on eggshells through busy office,
dizzy on steep precipice of despair,
and walks out glass doors into blinding sunlight.
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