The Curse of the Working Class

The truth is
We are the first and the last.
We stand on the elevation before you- saw in hand
We eat the first fruits in the field
We are the first to try that hot new dish
To track fresh snow
Comb clean cotton.
Nod our head to the beat drop
Test drive the Telsa.

You get a lot of shit for being the one percent
But we were there ahead of you.
And we will be the ones
That remind to take your pills.
Rebalance your portfolios
To take you meds and tuck you into bed.
To change your sheets and you diapers
To lower you down into the world you enjoyed so richly.

And wrap a hard, strong, calloused hand
Around your children’s shoulder
And remind them
As before
That we will always be
There
There.