The Churn (a poem)

Saturday, February 8, 2025

🚨 The churn keeps moving.

Pink slips, machines, portfolios, gods, justice—
or the lack of it.

New piece: “The New Churn”

📌 Read below.

The New Churn

The new churn, we just got caught
in a technological combine,
broke down in the advance of the wolves,
but we can’t clear the plain.
If you want to be tomorrow,
someone better—defer to them.
Classic deflection:
I’m just an economic line
that won’t reconcile.
They want to scrap the project,
go a different way—
don’t call us; we’ll call you.

Pink slip, informed, bye bye—
the machines are coming in now.
Perfect storm, premium greed
with great equipment,
like Batman but indifferent
to the poor man’s suffering.
Justice averted: the bad men go free,
while moms get deported.
And all we can do is check our portfolio
and thank the coin—
gods still got our back.

That line keeps moving, upward and onward,
rushing to the temple;
don’t have time for that one or that one—
oh, I don’t have anything for anyone,
not a smile or comfort.
Hard business, rough politics,
sharky waters—and we’re wounded,
in the way, swimming the gauntlet of men.
And the less we step over
the ones in our way,
I once heard a man,
regarding their lives and presence,
say: “Good riddance.”

#poetry