“the board deems you nonviable.
important work, sure, but
there is no money in helping the poor.
poor souls. pity they weren’t born
under a better star.” he sighs as if to say
‘what else can be done?’ later, he’ll pop open
a good year from the cellar to celebrate his getting through
that unpleasantness. it is tough work
destroying several futures at once. tough, hard labor.
***
though
riches to rags still happens, it’s not enough
for my blood. we have the coursing kind
which demands change when the top
get too fat on their profit.
let us knock ‘em down a peg,
into the fires. memorial day calls for
barbecue, doesn’t it, mr. paxton?
***
schools close. nobody bats an eye in the lone
star state. same old
story. we must remember in texas.
it is the law.