Poetry

Teardrops & Trust Funds

I saw teardrops and trust funds

White men in suits that could fund dreams

That Maria and Maybel have long suppressed

Because they learned early in life

That dreams don’t pay bills or put food on the table

Rotund bellies

Swollen from years of aged bourbon and cold beer

As they clink glasses together and cheer another day…

Our tears are just salty appetizers

White men dine on choice cut meats a man named Miguel sliced from bovine

That was a blood sacrifice to these (g)ods

They do not know his name

Or that he gets paid under the table

Or that his family lives in cages we built

They don’t care

As long as their lives stay uninterrupted by our concerns

They snort arrogance and powdered privilege

Pure and uncut

Liver spotted hands

Hold all the cards

Moving us like chess pieces

They are the masters of a warped universe

They made us build

We punch the clock to our own demise

Drugged up on Paxil

Opioids to mask the pain

Xanax to paint on the smile

Merlot to swallow it all down

Ambien to make us sleep

We drown in the white noise

Trying to drown out the White noise

Longing to forget that tomorrow we will do it again and again and again…

We are cogs in this machine

That feeds them

As they dine on our flesh

We tweet our horror in soundbites

Reliving trauma in instagramable quotes

Where we pretend we don’t feel the pain

From the gnashing of teeth

Leave a Reply