Neolib KhalilA lost chapter from The Prophet by Khalil Gibran. Thanks to Sister Scorpion for inspiring this post.
And a sweat shop labourer clutching a few coins in her hand said, "Speak to us of neoliberal economics."
And he said:
Your money is not in your wagepacket,
but in the bank accounts of the rich and greedy.
It comes from your labour,
a theft justified by capital investment.
And though you may be free, you belong to the grim factory.
You give the bourgoisie your life, but they give you only false hope,
for they own everything, even your DNA.
You sell them your bodies and they purchase your souls,
which dwell on a computer database, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but they will kill before becoming like you.
For power is theirs and they will not surrend it,
even if it means destroying the planet.
You are factory fodder sent forth to manufacturer designer gear for the US and Europe.
The foreman sees the mark upon the garment, and he fires you for taking a toilet break so your friends now fearfully urinate into carrier bags.
Let your exclusion deliver you to revolution;
For the arrow that falls does not forget the meaning of justice.