Man Without Qualities
In a glass-walled corner
on the 89th floor
of a cold, stale tower of steel
Sits a man on a chair
with his head in his hands
and a broken, cracked, crooked back.
Numbers spread out before him
Numbers make up his life
Numbers well beyond rational means.
And the man without qualities
contemplates the economy
while quantifying ethereal plans.
Never minding the market
that’s picking his pocket
with strong, steady, invisible hands.
On a dry-erase board
on the 89th floor
of that beckoning, beacon of steel
Is a quote in black ink
that reads, “Man no longer cares
for intellect or art”
Alongside a red-stained chart
plotting blood, sweat, and years
with the title ‘Human Capital.’
Still the man without qualities
seeks to prop up his policies
by affiliating them with religion.
Never mind that the prophets
boldly scoffed at false profits
the meek and the weak their true mission.
On an old, concrete ledge
above the 89th floor
in the path of a cold, northern wind
Perches a man with no shoes
whose last leap of faith
are these words spoken to a deaf ear:
“Jesus was no capitalist! Jesus was no capitalist! Jesus was no capitalist! Jesus was no capitalist! Jesus was no capitalist! Jesus was no capitalist! Jesus was no capitalist! Jesus was no capitalist! Jesus was –“