I’m Not Panicking

For the last time, I’m not panicking.

I’m just looking for that line of salvation
that will take me to another height,
where fame and glory aren’t something
to be mocked for,
because we’re ‘driving Cadillac’s in our dreams,’
but a means to an end.
A happy end.

As a jewish man once cried to God,
“is it such a sin to have
but a little fortune?”
But of course
I’ll be left here,
panicking, as you say,
to the debre and loss of my white trash life
and raging at some careless blue sky
that refuses to be moved
for the one little me
in a million.

And for God’s sake
turn off the damn TV!
It doesn’t get us anywhere
and broadcasts a burning world
into the back of our eyes and faces,
and tells us that our percentages
are falling,
lower,
every year,
so might as well give up to the naughty,
sex, drugs, dying young,
because welfare’s always there
and your chances
are none.

But I’m not panicking.
I swear, I’m not freaking out.
I’m sitting here, staring at the white screen
of a handmedown laptop, where I work
for greedy assholes, just like me,
trying to make their way to that tip top heaven
where they’re so rich,
it doesn’t matter what the trash,
white or otherwise,
think of them.

That’s all we really are, isn’t it?

…But I’m not panicking.

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