First, are you our sort of person?
Not the kind who
Subdivides, develops, refinances,
Negatively gears or
Doesn’t give a rat’s arse about the neighbours,
The environment or global warming? No, thank god! Sylvia
Made a joke of it but Jane
Is totally serious.
What kind of people
Take and take and accumulate
More and more junk? Like James said,
The boy with the most toys wins.
But what’s the prize?
Peace of mind and happiness
So what’s the point? The long-limbed blondebrunetteredhead
On your arm, round your neck, under foot,
Is only after your dough.
You know you’ll never know,
Who your friends are——
Nobody likes you, coz you’re a shit.
You’re not our sort,
Poor, politically correct, and full of scorn
For the unintellectual, unartistic, unaesthetic
Package you present. You billionaire!
after Sylvia Plath