The Lament of a Pessimistic Yuppie


Oh how many deceptions to follow the pride and joy
Upon receiving the gilded paper that marks our education,
And death seems to be the last great threat
Before shame, guilt and betrayal,
Until we discover ourselves decaying...

How the carefree laughter of our youth mock us!
As we rot away alive and wondering how such knowledge has
Escaped our attention. The mundane routines of the morning,
The draining afternoons in light purple cubicles
And white conference rooms - the when and where
Of how we have been dying, starting from the skin on our faces,
The skin we seek to renew during weekly facials,
Those pampering sessions at spas,
(How we shamelessly display the profitability in death!),
Orders of miracle cream and double lattes,
To lift the flesh that escape,
Our weak and flailing spirits' struggling grasps,
The flesh eager to be closer to the earth.

Oh our tongues! wild and lashing,
Self-condemning, status-conscious beasts,
Fall from our graces in alcohol-induced states,
How easy it is to feign joy at evening soirees, to throw
The hours wage into extravagance! How we have come to believe
And voice the rhetoric of efficiency and productivity.
How we have come to believe in our own stasis, in our mediocrity,
Forced to divide simple tasks, to divide our working and family lives,
For the fulfillment of an illusion of order.
Work hard from 9 to 5 to 9! And wait to bore ourselves silly
With the drama of night time cable.

Peering down to glimpse the homeless wanderers
Crawling upon the granite pavements, against the marble walls of our city,
Starving and suffering from hypothermia. So we tell ourselves,
Work hard from 9 to 5 to 9! For this,
Is how we should choose to die instead.


2005© HrJ

Unspokenfor

Let the leaves fall, and brush,
all the words into the sea,
for I know, I know,
he'll never give to me.

So lets be quiet, and hush,
these feelings all away,
for I know, I know,
death's for but a day.

Then let me sail, and rush,
like waves into the shore,
for I know, I know,
really nothing anymore.

2005© HrJ