artful warriors
managers don’t care if you have to risk
your life driving through the frozen ice
just to make a basic buck, as long as they
don’t have to do your job for you, which is
why they exist in the first place, to do your
job when you don’t show up — as long as they
get to do their managing, which half the time
means sitting on their phones, watching
and surveilling you and all the other
incompetent schlubs, again to make sure
even when you do show up, that you are
there in mind, body, and spirit — but who has
spirit for this shit when the compensation
is the bare minimum of recompense required
in order to justify the stealing of the entirety
of a human being’s attention span and cognitive
output…and for way more time than should
be considered rational…who gets excited
about being used as a crude implement,
a tool, a human instrument…yes, I am
a machine and so are you…
we’ve lost —
the game is over…
now let’s wait for our windshields to thaw,
so we can get our sorry asses back on the road…
if only we could stay in bed all day
and give over the keys to automation,
once and for all, maybe then we’d have
enough time to remember our dreams,
to remember the visions we encounter
in our deepest slumbers, and realize
that it shouldn’t take a broken back
or a stiff neck to make that shit happen…
our bodies always ache because we aren’t
doing right by them — we are sitting too long,
and clicking too much, scrolling for too many…
