Monday, July 30, 2012

We



image borrowed from bing


We
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks,
sermons in stones, and good in everything.”
--William Shakespeare
We 
are the wage-slave mortals who toil
with non-objective blinders 
strapped to our temples,
scurrying like reeling rabbits, 
as dismal as weed-worms, degenerating 
into pox-ridden weather-bitten ill-nurtured
creatures riddled with kidney stones, 
exerting our precious life’s blood 
for those dastardly dewberries, 
those abhorrent corporate coxcombs, 
those maltish monkeys in the corner offices,
finding ourselves sadly dependent 
on the humble wages they pay us, 
less than a turd’s third of our actual worth,
a pauper’s portion of the big pie, 
just 
a monthly fustilarian posterior penetration
with us on all fours howling like dogs,
forced to wear their varlot-bitch name tags,
our battered senses dulled by their chronic
sodomite insensitivity, bending low,
eyes cast down, back’s arched, 
genuflecting to the beasts,
kept in cubicles like cattle,
forced to submit to their ruttish behaviors;
we, 
the people, 
we, 
the work force,
we, 
of the 99%,
we 
who serve,
laboring sans sympathy
from the craven overseers, 
as if under-employment and out-sourcing 
was our manifest destiny,
we 
have been talking amongst ourselves,
preparing to build battlements,
if democracy continues to be folly,
if Presidents continue to be powerless,
if the future contains more failure,
more destruction of our dreams,
we
have made the plans,
and the word “revolution” will not fully describe
the day the sled dogs turn in their traces,
first eating the harnesses, then the whips,
then the masters.
Glenn Buttkus
July 2012
Posted over on Flipside Records
Posted also over on dVerse Poets-OLN55

Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?

12 comments:

flipside records said...

Your passion and intensity cries out in every line, Glenn. It's clear you feel this message deeply.

These sections gave me chills, they were so powerful:

"a monthly fustilarian posterior penetration
with us on all fours howling like dogs,
forced to wear their varlot-bitch name tags,
our battered senses dulled by their chronic
sodomite insensitivity"

"the day the sled dogs turn in their traces,
first eating the harnesses, then the whips,
then the masters"

Absolutely incredible writing. Thank you so much.

cloudfactor5 said...

Your words cut right to the bone !! You sure have a sense of being able to tell it like it really is !! I really loved this, incredibly Well Done !!!

Mama Zen said...

Hell, yeah!

Brian Miller said...

strong piece...and i think it captures well the feeling of frustration felt by the majority..esp like that last stanza, but i wonder if we would ever get organized enough to get to that point...

hope you are ok, have not seen you around...

Natasha Head said...

So like...where the hell do I sign up!? I am ready to start this NOW (let's pretend there's no border between our mirrored countries) Just how far do you suppose 99% of the bodies are able to bend? How many meals are they to go without after putting in a 60hr work week and still have to choose between food or power? Um...you KNOW how this speaks to me, right? This is awesome!

Day Dreamer said...

Words of a revolutionary! Well done!

Dave King said...

A clarion call, indeed! May it ring out everywhere.

Claudia said...

you write about this topic in a sensitive way..love the questions and no easy answers to it for sure

Yousei Hime said...

Just have to say, I love that ending. Go sled dogs.

Beachanny said...

Certainly a worthy topic as the middle shrinks, the poor increase, and rich get richer. Still no job at all is the path to a 2nd great depression. Necessity is the mother of much...not the least "invention". Do what ya gotta do...and it begins with a great poem!

Richard Mansfield said...

Glen, Just once in a while I have to tell you how powerful you are! Your work, your art always reaches me. Well again this one punched me hard in the gut.
Thanks for your contribution to my life.
I love you!
Dick

Adrian Sechrist said...

Hi Glen,

Are We angry? Or are We waxing poetic, or both?

Take care, it's a beautiful day,
Adrian