For a summer resort as a teen I had the job of cleaning latrines, three months at minimum wage. Nobody said, “Good job, well done.” But it was.
I’ve repaired septic tanks from within. Mucked in mud laying pipe. Scraped asbestos. Hot-mopped a roof. Shoveled bat guano. Nobody gave me a medal. Just cash.
Be humble. Do your share. Society will be better. Civilization more civil, you a stronger you, it’s really true, more worthy than those fat cats in their mansions who I dare not name or they’d send legal thugs to bury me in lawyer manure.
Forget latrines. Think billionaires. They bought the news. Congress. Supreme Court. Learn about salvage, about repair. Learn to fix rot at the foundation and work toward the top. Zoning board. Town council. State assembly. Governor. Step by step go higher. Then ask what shitwork is. And let’s get busy.
First published in *Rat’s *** Review: Such an Ugly Time* This poem has been nominated for Best of the Net