soc-pol

I look at my neighbors as
they are your neighbors to
Ozzie and Harriet
Fred and Ethel
Ward and June
as they smile at me
from their corpulent
manicured manufactured
white lives
and I know
as they know
about my two kids
no job
and going broke
on useless talent
get a job fucking smile at me
with that special sensibility
of outward christ-like
compassion that
one human does to another
in need you dig
that american
giving generousity thing
where the violins
between their thumbs and forefingers
mix etudes with sympathy
 and peeled flesh and swimming pools
like condescension meets pity
at a party in their skulls
and everyone's invited
but the entertainment...
 
 

 © 1998 -- Jeff Filipski