Smack hard the gavel
only after contemplation
of opportunity, its alacrity, too
Have you ever peddled a product on eBay
for twice what you paid?
Have you bought a stock on a tip,
some kind of inside communicado,
then sold it on the same?
In the event I could locate you
upon hearing your tuts and tsks,
phrases of disdain for what I do,
could I strap you to a polygraph
then not see
if you forge overtime, hiding a laugh
when you tack extra hours for your behalf;
or fabricate for a deuce or a fin,
filling in the cabbie’s blank chit
so it favors your expense pay?
Have you never
coughed out a sick day
when all you were
was ill from the recollection
of your cubicle, the thought of
monotony
that lay ahead,
another eight hours
evaporated from your years?
That desk where you sit —
here’s an exit strategy,
just seize it with haste;
The mortgage you’ve strapped
yourself to for the length of adult life —
lop off five years,
just behave with no fear
of a prison term in your wake
Have you never budded in
because you had to pee?
Never snuck into a movie
on a whimsical fit of spontaneity?
Or are you
a saint?
A good Christian or Muslim or Jew?
Or an agnostic,
who doesn’t fall for any ploy,
word of God too?
Tell me,
Capitalist, if you haven’t once
hustled for the betterment of
your own skin …
Well, we understand each other
then, Now, about my “sin” …
Adrian Brijbassi 