Monday, 2 May 2016

No Seriously Stop Fooling Around



“Arlequin” by Pablo Picasso (1918)


Inside the confines of the public library a public servant collects the sweat of the hardworking
Men and women are otherwise known as
Referred to as parents
Or merely mortals, if you will
Or human beings, if you would
They are called on earth
Greedy people are never
Never in a blue
Ever in an orange
Yellow or green planet
Greedy people are never called out on the rolls of the workforce

Roll with the times, just do
Corruption as an hour is paid for by the workers with their sweet, sweet tears
Full enough to fill buckets and sinks
Sinks to clean out the blood and the toothpaste
Is the paste to pave the way in the worlds of the rich and fucking fabulously famous
Wealthy people
Are just ordinary people, who are sometimes, perhaps trying too hard to stay relevant
But the question begs
The question begs
Why
Because an asker of questions is always seen as a beggar

In the eyes of the rich
The question is so easily forgotten or buried because of intimidation
The question
That was supposed to get asked, answered, maybe if lucky
Is conquered by the clock
On the wrist of the asshole
A landmine hums as it waits for the correct amount of digits on its analogue monitor
A bomb is concealed in the hairs of the rich
A strand is worth
More than conceivable
The worth of a strand of a rich man's hair is never the subject for questioning