Don’t Care Much About Being Clever

by Eric Chaet

I don’t care much about being clever—
to clear away injustice
I’ll need a more substantial lever
& some place to stand that’s not on quicksand
& a fulcrum that’s not the usual middleman
expert at gaming the market
who’s after his share
of what others can’t stop him from taking
at whoever’s expense
& collecting his trophy on a stage before cameras
then lording over others from a suite of boxes
higher than ten billion others
from which similar specialists plot to replace him
& among which they scurry
before they’re exhausted, cremated, or buried
meanwhile showing everyone how clever they are—
a trillion trillion somatic cells
expending energy on maintenance & narratives
& great suffering & delusions
& press releases & exploding stars.

I don’t care much about being clever—
I need a fulcrum & a lever that suit my task
clarified intent, an unprecedented critical path—
& you, helping
not insisting I go along with the program
you’re struggling to go along with
from now til my last breath—
let’s stop competing for consolation prizes
& align our efforts, yours & mine
not with what people think
but engineering & executing irresistible surprises.


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