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Not my Monkeys, Not my Circus

Michael Marchese

By Michael Brandon MarchesePublished 4 years ago 1 min read

Relief is a rare

All too scarce

Food source here

When it’s clear

I can simply say no

And refrain

From more deigning

To bend over

Backwards

In vain

All I gain

Is a thankless

And bankless crusade

And as much as it shames me,

Still going unpaid

Is becoming each zero sum

Dollar a day

An astray-

Course diverting

Me back to the grave

Like a masterless slave,

An unbidden submissive,

An outspoken critic

With no one to listen

To facts and statistics

Concise explications

Disowning the system

Excoriations

I can’t wait

To be free of this place

And be rid

Of the service

I still think

I owe to these kids

Who don’t give

Half a shred

Of the shit

That they live in

If I live or die

Or reply to the piddling

Remarks as I try

To remember alive

Not just how to survive

On this sustenance pittance

Somehow they can thrive

I just work

At this no-purpose

Circus deprived

Of a ring leader,

Just a few teachers

And creatures

All acting like

Shows must go on

When the bleachers

Devoid

Of a care or concern

Like the clown

Who can’t seem

To turn frowns

Upside down,

Is in town

slam poetry

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    Michael Brandon MarcheseWritten by Michael Brandon Marchese

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