Tag Archives: Privilege

White Porcelain

Nothing proclaims privilege like white porcelain.
Its glossy surface reflects a prestige anyone can appreciate,  
though the privilege, surprisingly, is getting harder to preserve,
even here in this milk-white marbled executive suite
populated by the pale and mostly male descendants
of white porcelain’s original beneficiaries –
all of us attired in the traditional uniform
of extremely starched ivory shirts
and aggressively angry red ties.

So privilege, nowadays, does bring problems –
though, trust me, you will get no sympathy
from the plastic port-a-john people on this.
White porcelain, even when it is safely segregated
behind a locked door, to which I, alone,
possess the code, can still get sprayed –
as happens often when I assume
a standing position of casual authority
with my hands resting gently, yet firmly, on my hips.

And, sometimes, white porcelain can get spackled,
even when I am comfortably seated, skillfully
conducting a contentious board meeting by Zoom.

Of particular relevance right now,
white porcelain can get clogged when the flusher
thingy suddenly won’t work, which,
of course, I only learn too late;
when, let’s say, a large deposit
(the only kind I make)
has been dropped at the bank.

I pride myself on solving problems - even unwieldy ones.
But how do I make peace with this unexpected imposition?

Acknowledging it makes me human,
a thought I can’t abide.
Asking for help makes me humble,
an approach I will not try.
However, ignoring it makes me privileged,
and that just feels right inside.

Plus, there’s no harm done.
Tonight it will be disposed of
by someone I do not know
and will never meet.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief

Union Street

Let's go down to Union Street
where all the impoverished people meet
around barrels brimming with green despair.
They'll fidget nervously while we stare
as each in turn will dip a cup
lift to trembling lips and drink it up.

On Union Street the barrels overflow
so we'll see many rounds before we go
and when they've drunk themselves blind
we'll leave through a door they'll never find.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief