A friend just recommended Wendell Berry's poem "Mad Farmer Liberation Front". You can read it
here. Here's the first stanza:
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
1 comment:
I love that poem, I read it just last week in fact, found a link to it somewhere in my travels.
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