i am dying
this slow death of
a thousand papercuts
interminable
this torture
spending each day
making thousands
for the fat cats
who pay pennies
to the poor schlubs
losing the best part
of themselves chasing
white picket fences
the bank will own
long after the
flesh has fallen
from ivory bone

i am dying
watching as my fellow
corpses head out
as the sun rises
fighting through
the congestion of a
thousand tumors
marring the skyline
insignificant cogs
in a machine that
chews up dreams
as they train their
replacements to do
twice the work
for half the pay

i am dying
stealing snatches of sleep
as my hands go through
the rote movements
my brain shut down
each new stop
the same as the last
the dead eyes staring
deadlines mounting
just those brief moments
alone in the car
to breathe deeply
the pollution hanging
a funeral pall for the
american dreamers
with no other options
but to work and scrape
and save enough for a
particle board coffin
on easy payments that
transfer to the next of kin

oh fuck, i am dying
i am already dead
but i have to finish
my tasks even as
rigor mortis stiffens
my limbs and the
flesh sloughs from
my ivory pitted bones
planning a funeral
as a substitute for
a retirement party
working through lunch
in an effort to get home
a formaldehyde bath
to keep up appearances
a bottle of cologne
to mask the stench of
fetid rot permeating
this decayed nothing before
the next shift begins

i am dying
a dessicated husk
leaving notes of surrender
on the scraps of
paperthin flesh
fluttering on the wind
a soul of salted earth
while the bastards drain
your blood and steal
your organs
a final robbery before
they set your corpse
on fire to heat the office
while celebrating the
record profits of the
last quarter built on
the skeletons of
indentured servants