Unwashed Clothes

Unwashed Clothes
by The Hippy Coyote
July 9, 2013

Looking up at the metal and glass
I know my place -- far below the upper class
They park their cars in underground shelves
Behind the guillotine gates where we sometimes dwell

I talk to the wall
I can hear my voice
What I have to say
Is still my choice

But they don't listen to what I want to say
They don't see the sharp teeth that will prey
On the Cadillac souls of Beemer lives
Eventually they will see the monster -- drives

The will someday call
But I will ignore their voice
Because when they are consumed
I will inherit the Rolls Royce

How did God abandon these suited children
In deodorant chairs earning their million
The bait in the trap that soon will attack
To replace them in the the ivory pavilion

Where I walk past the cubical stalls
Anxious nectar of the girls and boys
Competing for the leaves in their overalls
As they suffer with smiles that no one enjoys

I see you now -- soon you will be gone
Perhaps there is no right - there is no wrong
The unwashed clothes I dry in the sun
Defend me from the industrial song

Where freedom is a deal for a price
Where life is slavery to live where it is nice
With swimming pools and guillotine gates
Is it me or you the devil hates?