And

And during my breaks at work I read the news
And its about the disregard for the poor
And the oppressed the creation of more poor
And more oppressed
And the demonizing of anyone not in the comfortable white straight christian middle or upper class And their fear and ignorance
And bigotry
And the total void of creativity they bring and leave in their wake
And the ronald reaganing of america
And the nostalgia for the days of lynchings gays in closets
And women as second class citizen citizens
And their repression of any ethos that casts a critical eye on the use
And it's shameful

And I commute

And I take long circuitous bus rides to the subway for cramped
And uncomfortable slow subway ride to the other side of the bay
And get on another bus then get off and walk
And I’m home an hour and fifteen bloody-mother-fucking-suck-ass minutes after I left work
And if it’s hot I’m sweaty and uncomfortable and rip my clothes off and wash the dishes
And do stuff to be ready for the NEXT workday
And meanwhile
And oh holy shit of a crazy ass cracker has said something incendiary
About guns or war or arabs or muslims or terrorism or taxes
And I’m exposed to it and want to vomit or take a hammer to the whole fucking world
And then....
And the wife arrives home and she can sniff out a bad mood
And will deal me some serious  hurt if I’m not polite
And gracious and all disneyland like
And so I smile the biggest smile and say the how was your day
And can I get you anything and how’s about some dinner
And we eat I fumble and tumble to be just so
And when I get to bed I'm so tired
And so I fantasize about the incredible and the amazing and me famous not fatuous
And imagine the taste of glory but I doze and fall asleep and dream ridiculous
And wake up at 3:26 in the fucking morning to pee
And get back to sleep but not until after I toss
And I turn
And the cat wedges between us and oh well the damn alarm goes off way way way before I’m ready And I struggle out of bed and into the shower
And try to figure out what the date is and if there’s anything significant about it
And like a birthday or anniversary of any damn thing
And how far it is now to vacation or at least a goddamn three day weekend
And so please dear god that I don’t believe in
And I need a break from this shit but instead I shampoo soap myself
And then I shave and towel off
And goody
And now I gotta make lunch then breakfast
And eat it and dress and head out the door
And don’t come back again for nearly 12 hours
And all the while there are crackers trying to turn back the clock
And make america back into the antebellum south -- state’s rights
And carry on my waylaid son