Labor Day Whenever I see an older white guy get on the elevator at work and he’s got on a tie and a jacket and shines the shine of dull talcum powder and immediately crosses his arms over his chest and stares ahead barely noticing the ghost of any other human being that is me or anybody else that may be riding up with him into the offices of money I think, who did you kill today without even knowing it? It’s a terrible thing to think but I think it every day. I think it even without stepping foot on the luxurious elevators that go on forever into the silences that we have made for them as we slide through the voracious throats of all the buildings that rise like erections of America – that we live day after day like that greasing the elevator shafts so America can keep getting hard.
Posted on: Mon, 08 Sep 2014 18:25:50 +0000