Right, right,
Write on your cardboard slats
In wind and rain to tell
The tales of all your pain
Dive through intersections
Where traffic can’t help but
Inspect your woes on display
Markers on posters pointed to
Each oncoming lane, asking for
Empathy and spare change
Every one of you holds
A degree in marketing
Using pithy cardboard
To make drivers feel guilty
‘It’s my birthday’, says one
‘Need food for family’, says another
And on one corner stands a man
And his ungroomed dog
Have sympathy for us, they cry out
In a concrete jungle free and
Clear of altruism
Reaching out for heartstrings
And wallets to the ends
Of acquiring money
It’s a grind unlike mine
But still they grind
As I’m idling at a stoplight
And the man at work points
His paper sign at me
But an act of ‘goodwill’ isn’t
What I spend money on
Like there’s a such thing as
Feel-good capitalism
No, I struggle and consume
With a coffee in my cupholder
In the car that I pay for
Knowing my spare change
Would never change
What jobs he takes
Because
He’s not my responsibility
And I drive on
Consume Reality! 