Workers should be happy Their factories are closing down! Delighted to be free! The slaves are free! Instead it’s viewed as tragedy — “How survive, how support wife and kids, How buy all the things You can’t be happy without without a job?” Talk about labor shortages! What about poetry shortages? Why not create six million new jobs to save the Poetry Industry? Six million new poets to write epics on Girls-boys-love-death-work-play-freedom- wilderness-eternity? Shouldn’t there be more poets than factories? Shouldn’t factoryworkers be able to support their families by writing poems? Only one epiphany is needed to discover Just how powerful poetry can really be: The fact day and night exist because the Earth turns round itself Is in itself a miracle We should be struck speechless by eight hours a day, Speechless, motionless, gaping Breathless to the point of near heart attack. Here, smoke this joint alone here And consider the unfurling maple leaves moist and velvety as puppytongues. Consider sixty thousand years before Christ Neanderthal buried their dead with bouquets of flowers. Rather than crying when factories close down, cheering when factories close down. Rather than factories closing down, no factories existing in the first place.
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