My ears crunch
flowing blankets,
plastic mats and dull carpets.
One man thinks
he understands macroeconomics.
He has terrible fuzzy
facial hair.
A baby face on a man
who might fall over
while eating his taco.
Care not to bump,
care to be attentive.
Care not to spill,
care to look competent.
American Culture, Depression, Fear, Isolation, Poems, Poetry, recovery, Resistance
This entry was posted on April 17, 2011, 10:10 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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stillfugue
#1 by Jamie Dedes on April 18, 2011 - 2:56 am
Sense of idolation too perfectly captured. Fine work! Thanks!
#2 by Carl on April 18, 2011 - 10:05 pm
Thank you so much, Jamie!
#3 by carldagostino on April 18, 2011 - 2:31 pm
They can only think the understand macro ec. Too many variables and incidental factors. The leadership thinks they know but when millions are out of work and will collapse when that last check comes, it shows the real intelligence and planning should be in micro ec. The micro ec of the common household of millions behind the eight ball.
#4 by Carl on April 18, 2011 - 10:12 pm
It is absolutely fascinating to observe someone who is sure that he knows exactly how “the financial crisis” happened. We like to think we understand the world, but we understand very little, most remarkably ourselves.