Repost of a poem about the accountants who carry red umbrellas.
Get up, eat. Drink some speed. Get on the rat race’s beat. Out the door, you proceed, just another person in the street. Not an inch of power to concede. Show up, sign the sheet, like the faceless hog decreed, and with pay, you can’t compete. Day in and out, at a painful speed, destroyContinue reading “A Villanelle For Capital”
A poem for accountants with red umbrellas.