Thursday, February 24, 2011

A Mule

A shiny new car encourages a thrall.
Credit bubbles pop; troubles stop his smiles.
The dusty used car's returned.
His daily commute shoots directly into the city center's main vein.
Public buses transport this metropolitan citizen to the last bastion of commerce in a storm: civic service.
Reforms, curses on prosperity spoke by suit&tie wearing wizards, transform billions of debt-units into trillions, workers into criminals and beggars, the starving into the dead.
In his head, the costly ride lost to wage freezes was an escape from daily mediocrity.
Free from the media's opiate glamor, eyes open, he'd see: without the liberty to hold the reins of his property, the most luxurious sports car is an injurious slave ship.

No comments: