It's Hard out here for a Chimp

Serfdom (with apologies to Zbigniew Herbert)

it was so cold
you see
and the screaming gale
left my eyes clouded over.
so i could not look-
i could not look you in the eyes.
the winter wind
spring rain
the blinding glare in summer
autumn roils with dust...
so i cannot look
my gaze fixed to the sidewalk
an embarrassed grimace
on my face
and all the noble people
walk by in conversation
in haughty silence
in laughter.
they walk by,
wealthy couples
fearless free students
magazine cover boys
catwalk girls.
i would remove my hat
had i a hat to remove.
instead i wonder
whether i should step
into the gutter
as they pass.
i see myself
holding doors,
making way
apologizing
for their clumsiness
for their mistakes.
in the mirror
my monkey fetures mock me.
my peasant soul
dreams dreams
of scythes
rage and pitchforks.
of liberation.
but i cannot look them in the eyes
there is too much dust
and too much light
and the poet was wrong:

even
our dreams
have been humiliated.

p. curtin