Histrionic Oversimplification While Asking for Change

Being unemployed and 24, I’m prone to catastrophizing.

So, sure, maybe the Keystone XL pipeline won’t poison

every town’s water supply in its path from Alberta to Texas.

All those nuclear plants will probably not

have a meltdown. And no matter how many

reasons I can think of that money is evil,

hi-jacking this economic system is just,

well—I don’t have the guns and never cared much for

Counter Strike. Why do we have to live this way?

Why do we give those in power the authority

to run our lives, destroy the planet, and make us

feel we’re not worth shit without all their products?

I ask these questions to my third Bud Light, waiting

for a refill on popcorn and five singles. The Gold Bar Casino

flashes dimly inside, attached to the Dirty Boy Laundromat:

Wednesday post-lunch, I got nothing much going right now, so

why haven’t I chained myself to a tree yet?

Why aren’t I lying down in front of a steam

roller dump truck bulldozer wrecking ball?

I should do something with this body

other than load it full of salt and alcohol

and pour my money into these machines

fingers crossed, this time

I'm gonna hit the six.