The Commodity Sings to its Beloved

I am here for a very particular reason: to buy a 6-pack of beer and berries out of season all for you, i did it all for you I noticed an oil spill on my drive past the bay, emergency broadcast on the radio —What do you have to say? all for you, i did it all for you You chopped down the plant that used to grow my pants, resurrected it in Indonesia like a blow-up doll with amnesia all for you, i did it all for you Poor people once lived here but you flooded the valley with psilocybin carcinogens, and forced the kids into shooting galleries all for you, i did it all for you You gave poor people jobs then you forced them to act like robots lining up for a real live heart attack, made them take apart their futures then you sold the parts back, repurposed the sutures to close a robocaller’s rap all for you, i did it all for you You got children in slums to make things that break, your unspoken credo— “If it lasts, it’s fake.” But you were there first when we were dying of thirst, with a pint of chilled water each, for me, my wife and two daughters, and even a kewpie doll and a tiny stuffed puppy —for my wife some paper slippers, for me, a stuffed yuppie —You saw every decision that I would make first, and you did get there first when we were dying of thirst every decision i make is part yours, every step i take, i take on your floor You mangled my fingers, polluted my streams, screamed in my face, closed deals over my dreams all for you, i did it all for you (and now it fades out, “The Commodity Sings to its Beloved” song. They’ll say it was a good idea done wrong —“They should have got a bigger budget, done it as a singalong.”)