An Edict For Solicitous Existence

By Noah Samuel Brown

Surrounded by boorishly uncultured fools
Who, unlike us, are archaic by their very nature.
More advanced in intellect than them are we
Yet reduced to wage slavery we remain
While they enjoy the bountiful fruits of our labour.
Shall we grovel in the bosom of the earth?
Forgotten we are left
To be omitted from their designs
Outlined by their ignorance
And their Philistine minds.
Culture is everything
Is it not?
We represent what they must endure
Because we are the key to their liberty.
You mustn’t think they give consideration
To us who make their lives comfortable.

Does the wage slave master slacken the reins?
Or lessen the strikes of his whip?
No!
He mustn’t.
Profit is not enough.
He must make a profit of profit,
Forward is not adequate
Upwards must be the direction he takes.
Yet employed not all are.
This is a concept that has been on your mind often.
His surplus of labour is there
To allow him his pick of the lot
To drive down the wages,
The conditions
And the resistance.
 
Still yet the trade unions offer a haven
And the company of all your comrades.
The established power is merely an idea
Without conviction
Or the force of the majority.
Here endeth the lesson:
An Edict for Solicitous Existence.