POEM: The Running Joke

THE RUNNING JOKE

I pity the man who thinks life revolves around money

I pity the woman who thinks life revolves around sex

For neither can amount to anything unless there is a degree of meaning involved

And where do we find that meaning?

Is there something profound that we all seem to miss while sifting through the wrong selections?

No

We’re taught that money rules

We’re shown that sex controls

And we have no reason not to believe

All the signs are pointing there

All the evidence leads us there

And so we exist;

Mounting and spending and fornicating and money making

If we don’t get what we want we cut someone else off

If we don’t get promoted we make the next likely candidate’s life a living hell

If we lose a bet we are bitter

We are a selfish, crude and arrogant race, men,

And we have made the world what it is;

A running joke,

A monument to our own narcissism

And I suspect the only one who isn’t laughing

 is God

 © Dean R Boic 2015