Bloated Capitalism

From the title of this blog, it may seem like I am about to go on about how terrible capitalism is and use Marxist theory to defend the eradication of such a structured economy and emphatically explain my plans for the perfect utopia where everyone lives in peace and harmony. This will not happen because 

1. Utopia does not actually exist, the word means both "no place" and "best place" 

2. I actually have a job and therefore am involved in a form of capitalism and I like being able to pay for things 

3. I Love Meijer! It's a great store that I wander through often when I am bored, stressed, or hungry.

With that in mind, I am posting my poem criticizing capitalism. As I was writing a poem, where myself and my colleagues mapped out the rough draft, I noticed a particular theme that was recurring. The poem took a life of its own in a way. I made me think that just because we love something, does not mean that its perfect. 

Even if it is Meijer. 

 Superstore Chain

I have been standing here all my life

with stage lights burning

 the corneas of my eyes

branding my retinas,

a burning sensation of

dread.

 Blinding florescent lights

blanch and bleed all color of life.

I begin my work for Kmart

a pathetic greeting performance.

The Zeus of capitalism bloats

then burps erotically coaxed

customers. Paid with coupons

bought with sales.

Every promiscuous event

creates a godly offspring

housed in a Chinese factory

starving, underpaid

producing products

marked

with their gentle fingerprints.

Chainstore Olympus rises

Target, Meijer, Sam’s Club

Walmart, clouding my sight.

 Giants crushing the small civilian stores

leaving a river of numb workers

measuring their lives in cigarette breaks

buried in catacombs of cheep plastic.