I explode into space!
Deliver me from this hum-drum existence:
prospects of cubicle tones of grey
and neutral encounters.
Diminished to my skill set--
lost amongst the quandary of wage-earning
and wasted mind--
my time, life and energy,
is a servant to a baseless economy.
I stretch toward the stars--
they are as limitless as my mind-scape--
seas of color, potential, and I am awed.
My dream eyes glimpse twirling nebulae
and parallel universes:
and at my fingertips:
server, insurance, or health tech.
I am in the job of anonymous--
a creature without a rudder--
a last-ditch effort to become something marvelous.
I feel like dead wood
choking up the rushing river of humanity.
Educated, capable
yet my dreams amount to nothing
but a series of false starts,
market potential,
goods, services,
commodified
to be bought and sold as befits
the restless march of greed.
Nagging doubt,
I feel my being amount to nothing:
my mind pruned by meaningless phrases,
whittled down to a nave.
Each day I quest for the extraordinary--
dig my liquid soul into
a life less than ordinary--
to escape a path, narrow and lagging:
of instincts less than lacking.
Heaven is on a river, with tall trees
and a fresh breeze
and me on my knees being pleased
to be breathing and not needing
anything more than to be blessed
in this moment.
And yet
here I am--
long and far
from the straight shot--
goal-oriented, pre-ordained
wiz-kid with a hope for a plan
to have all her ducks in a row.
The five-year plan:
pension, an income,
401k, and stock options.
Bitter luck kid,
the top sunk us.
Free market: you're a liar,
a euphemism for empire,
a New World Feudal Order
caged by debt and survival.
I lost my love to
higher education.
I thought I struck gold
when I found myself.
But she's gone, my love is gone.
I'm stuck here
aiming toward a lift to the endless.