The CEO of the company
Where I work
Earns what I earn
In the first 14 minutes of his day
His lunch costs more than my food for a month
His wife buys $900 handbags
But I just gave myself a raise
I’m gonna get what he gets
I’m only working 14 minutes tomorrow
At 8:15 my desk is a ghost town
I’m a man; he’s a man
His needs are no more than my needs
Walk on me until you smoosh copper from my tired bones
I’m not the drywall in his mansion
Or the right rear tire of his Maserati
14 minutes is all he gets
Unless he feeds a five spot
In the meter on my desk
For an extra 60 seconds
Or an Aaron Burr’s bullet catcher
Or better yet the baldheaded builder of the lightning rod
With enough gold gurgling through the gears
I’ll gladly give up more minutes,
Lose my lunchtime,
And stay seated behind stacks and stacks of paper
Otherwise, it’s a 14 minute limit
So I can go home and count the leaves on my orange tree
And further flatten the feathers on my pillow
The real revolution is not about offing the oligarchs
New ones will just bob to the top of the ocean of capital
The ocean where only our big toe got dipped
Why waste your work just to wet more digits in the pool?
Rediscover your dignity
Take control of your time
Work less and spend more time slacking
Lean way back in your chair,
Feet propped in the air,
Close your eyes and breathe deep
The thumb rests on the nose
With fingers fluttering the stink of your indifference
Toward that money engorged despot, named CEO
Garrett Smith…
Write On, Downtown 