POEM: It's a Good Day for a Money Poem
More alchemical poetry for these transitional times. Feel the spell breaking...
Money Poem By Schuyler Brown Today is a good day for a poem about money. Yesterday, it might have seemed funny to question something so essential our means of exchange, existential. A word to the wise about the way we stash it for some future date, earning just to live for free, savings bonds can't avert catastrophe, worked to the bone, shackled to desks, riddled with doubts and deeply in debt, chasing something just out of sight, trading up without getting it right. Between the carrot and the stick there's no solution; they're both a trick. It's a good day to set the record straight Yesterday, I thought it might too late. Yesterday, that couple sitting outside Lululemon drinking twenty dollar smoothies from Erewhon... Him, ignoring her absently present scrolling scrolling Stocks and sports cars, buying, selling. Her, twisting a pearl-shaped diamond the size of a cockroach spinning spinning as she talked about plans for the wedding. They seemed content but, there was something missing... What was it? Love and true affection. Instead, a tepid agreement to feign romance (Poor kids they didn't stand a chance!) to get it right for their parent's friends to get into the club; to win, to win. I could have felt more, I could have tapped in rallied compassion or words of wisdom (I'm still trying even now in the writing!) But, there was something so smug beneath it all like they'd never known trouble or taken a fall How could that be possible? Something quite devilish was lurking there in the smooth waves of his well-cut hair and the polished nails and the tennis shorts a nice shade of coral to wear on and off the courts. Smug, like they'd won the lottery, like they'd earned it, like they deserved to be so overly, extra perfect When others... What others? Don't tell us about the suffering We don't want to hear it Don't spoil our day with such things, we mean it! We have people to see and parties to plan We have IPOs to oversee and people to scam We have tennis rackets to string and bodies to tan We have maids to pay in cash and tax shelters in foreign lands We have closed minds and greedy little hands We have a house at the beach and outdoor showers for sand We have a nanny for the kids and an apocalypse plan We have friends in high places who run lifestyle brands We have everything we need and a direct line to The Man. I don't wish the kids ill, I really don't. But demons are annoying when they gloat. Today, the money's gone and what will we do? It depends on who you're talking to. Dissolving into thin air... a mirage revealed; a Chimera. Like a slot machine endlessly spinning-- Can't we see, the house is winning? Oh, Money... Wherefore art thou? What hast thou done? Why art thou so fickle? What hast thou become? This isn't a fairy tale or sonnet. This writing isn't made for profit. Even receptivity born of desperation is better than endless procrastination. Yes, today we can talk; eleventh hour reckoning about life and love and what has meaning About who's in charge when push comes to shove-- The markets, the demons, or something Above? Today, there's a window and it's open a crack Oh, humanity! Can we find our way back? What was stolen must be returned, what we bought with money will never be ours. We don't have to know what's next to remove the boot that's on our necks. We just have to breathe in order to feel a part of what is really real.
Thank you, thank you 🙏 for expressing so eloquently this mirage that hovers all around us. It reflects back to us what we desperately need to know. Thank you for seeing.
love love love
very reminiscent of (and also of course quite different from!) one of my all time favorites in terms of songs which point out the conundrum of late-stage capitalism:
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/pinkfloyd/money.html