POETRY  2
	I wrote this poem for my students who have little idea of what the real world is about.  This results partly from parents who are limited in social awareness, church teachings that stress that the world will soon end, school administrator whose main concern is insulation from disapproval, and teachers that stay in their subject  box and don't try to relate to the whole persons before them.
		What Kind of Work Will You Do? What kind of work will you do When  you have to get a job? Will you join a gang or be in The mafia mob? How about a joining the police force, You’ll have a badge and gun, You can catch drug dealers and gangsters Just to have some fun. Or become a basketball player Who makes millions of dollars Who shoots  balls through  hoops And makes the crowds holler. How about working as a lawyer Who sees his customers in jail, And helps them get out until trial By arranging their bail. Or helps the big corporations In their international operations, Where profits for investors are the highest Considerations. Or arranging for businesses To operate overseas, Perhaps be employed as a judge In a high court Who hears the unfortunate Offering guilty pleas. You can open a restaurant, Selling tacos and frijoles, Or cheese enchiladas, All covered in mole. Perhaps you’ll sell pizzas Piping hot and spicy, Or chocolate ice cream, That’s all cold and icy. Maybe you will work as a  math teacher, Teaching multiplication and division, Helping your students To make rational mathematical decisions. There are many kinds of teachers If you want to work in the schools, Assisting young people To use their thinking tools. You can give the smart students A’s And the poor students D’s If they won’t do their homework And do as they please. Or give an F for a grade, So they will drop out of school And sit by the ocean In the cool dark shade. There’s English and Social Studies, Computer Science and History, And teaching reading skills So students can understand What’s in the newspaper, the bible, adventures and mysteries. If you don’t want to work As an academic teacher, You can study the Koran or the Bible, And work as a Rabbi, Minister or Preacher. Or do Zen meditation in a meditation hall, And experience that reality is nothing at all. There’s lots of religious stuff To study and learn, So you can enjoy scolding believers To fear their god, pray and beg forgiveness, Or go to hell and for forever burn. Many women will go through Painful maternity, Nine month at a time will feel like an eternity. They will work hard night and day, But sad to say, they will get no pay. As they clean the house, Prepare the food to be eaten, They pray to their god that they Won’t be beaten. And obey their priests so they won’t Commit sins, And suffer in anguish Because of the life they live in. Some jobs are not so nice, Like killing termites, cockroaches And little baby mice. That job is called an Exterminator, You could become an actor, Or a state governor, And make movies about the Terminator. The Terminator’s name is Arnold, He’s not a wimp or a mortician, He changed his job to politics And became a politician. How about working at high altitude, Flying big jet airplanes, Or as a doctor examining patients Who have their aches and pains. If you work as a chemist, You can invent a detergent To take out food stains, Or make chemicals to spray in the sky To make it pour cold rain. And then there’s the ship captain, Who works on a freighter or tug, Or teach rock-and-roll dancing, Like the hip-hop or jitterbug. You can design new computers Using micro-technology and chips, Or work in a stock broker’s office Giving investment tips. Or advising traveling tourists How to make safe and fun trips. Maybe you’ll become a sex worker And spend nights in bed, Moaning and groaning And giving good head. There are jobs making maps, Showing all the far-away places, Or learn plastic surgery, To change people’s stomachs, Hips, butts and faces. Or run a machine in a big noisy factory Stamping out plastic parts, Toy pieces and video cases. If you drop out of school, Because you can’t do it, And run out of money and run out of time. You may have to labor year after year On a noisy and dirty assembly line. Many jobs are not very good, And time will move so so slow, But if you hit a dead-end, There may be no other place to go. Some jobs have you making military weapons, Like bullets, poison gasses and missile Stingers, The factories are full of machines, That will cut off your hands or fingers. There are many jobs that are very dangerous, Making chemical products That are not very good for us. “Just one mistake” the manager said, And ten thousand people In a city, town or community Will all be dead. There’s making pesticides for farmers fighting erosion, And jobs in nuclear energy plants, That can have radiation explosions. You might find a job handling toxic waste, Or driving trucks filled with sewage That have  bad smells and even worse tastes. There are chemicals so poisonous One touch will make you die, and If you make one mistake, It won’t do you any good to pray or to cry. And you will never again Breathe clean fresh air or see the blue sky. You can join the military And inflict lots of death and pain, When at the conclusion, There will be big business and corporate gain. And before peace is settled, There’ll be lots of confusions, So you can work as a nurse, Giving life-saving blood transfusions, Before the war ends and there are Final solutions. The military makes promises Like college education and bonus pay, But that’s all before your brain is blown out, And your face’s shot away. That’s all real bad, Like a witch doctor’s hex, But that bullet through your crotch, Means no more children or sex. It’s really tragic to be impotent so young But you can still makes her moan and jump With the tip of your rhythmical tongue. So your wife will still be happy With a son and your army pay, And she’ll be certain to have, At least one orgasm per day. Or you can work in a junkyard Filled with broken down cars And live in polluted cities Where you can’t see the stars. So, if you’re not born to parents Who have lots of money Like most everybody I say, No use to complain, About all of your pain, You must work your life away. From year to year and day to day, But you will be paid until you are fired, And hope you get severance pay. And if you open you own business One of the facts is, You can have two sets of books, And cheat on your taxes. If you work as a dentist or lawyer You can make three-hundred dollars an hour, Or if your luck is bad, Work in the New York Trade Tower. If you work in the fields and your job is picking, You can be sure that the owners Will give you a good ass-kicking. You’ll bake in the hot sun Without even a fan, And your employers will screw you, Anyway they can. So whatever job you have to do, And you must do it all day, Working for a living, Sucks your life energy away. Larry Epston: Santa Ana 6.30.05