Poem

Business As Usual

Without a totem
standing for us,
we fear division.
Without a sound bite
we walk unsteadily
into our next thoughts.
Freedom is generous.
We can believe anything
so pulpits abound.
Our every living second
is complicit.
There is theft
in every purchase.
We cut down Demeter’s tree
to make a maypole
for our hungers.
You might ask,
Where do I live?
Where do I hide?
In creature comfort,
with the rest of you,
at the apex of a supply chain
forged by greed
impervious to humility
and hallowed by ease.


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