Social Theory
Anna Cates
Begins something like this:
Only the strongest survive--
Only the smallest
Crust of the upper 1%--
Meaner than the paper-thin sliver of cake
Slanted onto Scarlet O’Hara’s china plate.
She pecked one crumb before lamenting,
“Oh I declare--I just can’t eat another bite!”
The rest of us are floating
In a river like a yellow-haired hound.
Cold currents beat against our steady dog paddle
Till we loose our upstream pace, floundering,
And burble down the flow,
Subsiding, submerging,
Helplessly, hopelessly downing.
Social theory
Ends something like this:
Water-logged,
We wash up the bank,
Under the deadened brambles
At the foot of the loneliest range
To furnish the soil our fertilizing mange.