The Bulls and Bear Necessities

778 points down at the bell.
The damage done,
the smoke has cleared.
The buyers and sellers scramble
for solutions with ruined nerves
and chattering teeth.

The stock market crashed and burned today.
A new record.
An all new Low.
Good.
Fuck em'.
Their is no truth to our humanity anymore.
The poetry of fighting to live has been lost.
It's perverse fantasy that will end in failure.
I wish there was a way to inform them;
The Players,
The Believers:
Your killing your self for nothing.

The photos of weary eyed investors,
head in hands
and the American Flag waiving ominously in the background.
Perfect.

Belly up to reality you fucking swine.
Patriots to the dollar.
It's all make-believe!
Your forgetting that you too are an animal.
Income Junkies
who value credit points
over the simple pleasures
of a short-term existence.
May you forever chip your teeth
and bleed your gums
when you choke on another
god damned budget bailout scheme.

It's your fault for building your banks on sinkholes.
I won't pony up for your mistakes;
For your faith in paper promises.

I don't know what I am worth.
When they asked me to set up a 401k
I kindly declined.
I don't worry about retirement funds
or social security.
I was born poor
I live poor
and I will die from being poor.
There's a visceral honesty in that.

We're not gods
We're no superior deity.
We are not the final result of evolution.
We're born to let our bodies enrich the soil.

We're the humble pigs
trembling in the shadows of the slaughterhouse.