Rationalized Theft

This country
was founded on the concept
that theft is justifiable
only under certain conditions and pretenses

as long as you call it something other than “theft”,
the military jargon is “tactically acquire”,
we used to call it “manifest destiny”
but I’m here to re-coin the term
and steal the record straight

I realized at a young age,
that I was a land-locked pirate
I held no morality over insured possessions
as my heart holds no nationalist ideals
I swore to the flag of my own making
so call me a criminal
but I see it differently,
I have thoroughly rationalized my actions
to the point of fashioning an addiction

I have a hard time passing through a supermarket
without eating donuts and drinking smoothies
before I check out

Check what out?
shit, I’m broke
and I’m hungry
so I pretend to shop
while secretly, I feast

without EBT
I’m still dependent
on fucking food
and water

the county owns the rainfall
and they charge to have it piped to your faucet
this trend started in Italy, many years ago
before that, water was free

Full of indignation,
with a stomach rumbling
I exercise my infallible right to consume & camp, freely as an American
I shall not be stifled by loss prevention managers and rangers
(long as I knock on wood
I do as I please)

What did our forefathers flee from?
Religious persecution or financial?
Did they just want donuts and turnovers, like me?
The opportunists have taken over, of course, who could blame them?
It is not much different from Old England
and Old English 800 tastes like corn-malted liberty with a hint of misplaced, lethargic rage
Where is my native reservation?
Where can I go if I don’t want to play this game?
Where do I sleep at night when the mission is full?
No, thank you, I don’t want to leave quite yet, I still have friends and family to look after
my interest lies in adapting myself and the system
Everything requires permits:
camping, fishing, hunting, gardening, living
it all requires money and permission

give me the fines and fuck your permit
my permit arrived the day I was born and it will be revoked the day I die
I could give a rats ass
in exchange for a court summons
and I’d plead guilty
as my fines go to collections
(we know how that goes;
good luck finding me)

no debtors prison
for the low-class criminal huddle:
no white collar
no blue collar
no collar at all
we sleep where we want
we eat when we’re hungry
hell, even the county jail is more sanitary than this black-mold infested squat I stay at!
it doesn’t matter where I am,
all places are the same
in the sense that each is just a little bit different
and a whole lot fucked-up
‘cus you are animals
and I am animal, too;
might be rabid
might need to be put down

send me to your institutions, I will meditate, read,
and write
and I will throw monkey-wrenches into the minds of any mass I meet,
I will strip naked and spin fiery tools through the air, like serpents ablaze, I will singe your soul down to it’s DNA
and then I’ll drown the place
with laughter;
three hots and a cot, thank you very much!

so,
soup kitchens are nice
and church lunches are enjoyable
yet hardly enough to sustain an appetite
as ferocious as mine
find me scarfing down pastries and sandwiches
with an idle basket full of nonsense and disguise
leaving it on the shelf with a faint goodbye,
singing,
Thank you Safeway
Thank you Kirkland
Thank you ABC Store
Thank you Wally World
Thank you for all the sugar, salt, pepper, creamer packets
and the crullers, donuts, turnovers, bear claws, and fritters,
protein shakes, green smoothies,
Thank you for the cheap thrills and the nourishment
Thank you for having insurance to cover your losses
Thank you for having high rates of employee thefts
and fuck you just the same

In my heart of hearts, I ask,
why am I sewing the seeds of theft?
Why do I have an attachment to such trivial things?
Do I not trust in the good grace of the Universe to feed me?
Am I on a feasting frenzy,
have I corrupted my soul to the point of betrayal?

I admit, I am a part of the problem,
I try to remedy it,
like most, I learned to cut corners, to take advantage, to manipulate
as a result of my cultural exposure
in the home of the thieves

but I ask again and again:
how can you have justice & virtue
while living on land that has been stolen?
Forgive us, Father, for we live in first-class squalor and we can’t help but to sin…

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Categories: Prose | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

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