(via francine)
Willy Loman
who cries for your spirit
your asphyxiation
outsourcing then notsourcing
your production
your being
now nothingness
your legend
smeared by
burglars with false
subscriptions
and the protestant work ethic
and the spirit of capitalism
know not of the sweat
the aspirations of your brow
Willie Loman
and you
headless Willie Loman
have no horse
no oats
no water
daylight and the sun
cast shadows
project
your headless
heartless
bloodless image
the greed machine
kisses you not
and those
bootstraps
the ones not allowed
‘neath three-
piece suits
those bootstraps
do not exist
and if they did
what
what
Willie Loman
what could you
pull yourself
up to
without
blood
heart
head
compassion
widespread
conspicuously consuming
selfish cultures of greed
have turned your
American Dream
into a nightmare
a vicious
insomniac nightmare
and Aeon
the baby boys
find no work
to take care of their
mommas
grandmommas
and tears
wet tabletops
empty of crumbs
few roaches remain
and many great
depressions
fill homes
and spread out
beyond homes
fill those without homes
oh Aeon
wishes to dream
American Dreams of
Willie Loman
when he had head
heart
blood
hope
but that was then
as Bob Dylan sings
but things have changed
Aeon
will dream new dreams
provided Aeon
the baby boy
the baby grandboy
can sleep
and Aeon
wishes to take care of his
momma
grandmomma
and the greed machine
ignores Aeon
his momma
grandmomma
for they have thrice
been born
and
once born
it is survival
of the richest
*written by Jo Sonofjo Wolstenholme*
7 February 2009
photograph posted by Francine
