Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 26
The CEO drones on about the company
From a large colorful screen
Remote and loud and rich
His voice seeps into the empty assembly room
His innovation the most capitalistic lilting sheen
his words of Corporate values are seen
By no one,
Just one lone man sitting
Stark naked and leaning
Upon the cold and blue concrete floor.

All the workers are working;
They know not
Of how their leader is speaking bottom line prophecy:
Clearly, a loop. Another Holographic Godless creator
Of pastel green money.
A boney-strong hand grips the office door.
If this were a movie,
The man would be Abraham or Hamilton
Or Jefferson...
Come to save the empty meeting-
But he’s just another one.
And it’s never a happy movie to live
so weightlessly and “fate-less-ly”;
Suspended by the hope of
Past delusions.

He sits beside the naked, obligated, sad
Swimming in the lamp light
Of severance
Of the projection screen
Maybe as
close to America as they’ve ever been
But they ignore this, and
They wait for the end of the video.
This was a weird vision I had inspired by the movie American Factory, and some of the paintings by Banksy.
Written by
Jessica  30/F
Please log in to view and add comments on poems