Labor for Sale

Steel and glass
automaton fitted
with fiberglass dreams

Billows out economic
slaves in the name
of green backs
and consumption

Broken backs
and cracked hopes
gives rise to bitter mornings

Scramble for food
and coffee and then
the drive to that unholy
graveyard where the real
you goes to die

Old, grime-ridden toys
dot your basement,
reminiscent of a time
when life didn’t
have you in a vice
around the throat

Another day, another
dead dream within
the pile of refuse
that was once called
imagination

Adam Levon Brown is a poet residing in Eugene, Oregon. He enjoys the outdoors and playing with cats. You can contact him via his blog at…

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