We were chain ganged together

Metallised for life,

When we came upon this world.

We were creatured,

Categorised and caged for life,

In the crib, on the ward.

And not by any single muscle either,

More by the ones in control,

Making all the lofty decisions.

Those who are of the Aerial.

They are neither movers or shakers,

Rather devotees of the voice, of the air.

They talk of gains and of placement,

The social arrangements and laws.

They have hold of both the dynamo

And of the order of life.

We may be taught how to exist, what to expect

And when to comply.

But our salt defines our strata on society.

But salt, though essential for life, is kept scarce.

We are therefore life long followers of the nose bag,

Which keeps us in our place, and dependent.

We have zero, when others have multiple zeros.

What we use to exist is unsecured.

We have only the gift of life, in this life

This itself is only electrical potential.

Therefore with each breath we roll a dice,

In order to experience the beat of existence.

(c) 2018 Christopher Thompson

all rights reserved

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