"Earned Helplessness"

by DaddyO


Relegated to play Monopoly
in the game of Life
I obtain what I want
without getting what I need,
and set people off
with my provocation.

To avoid a bored walk
down streets and avenues
that are not my property
I take respite in a little house of O
right next to McDonalds
and pretend it's a hotel
where I snort Splenda
through faux fifties
off the naked arching backs
of bratty ageplayers acting out
an arrested adolescence

I get high from the thought
yet crash with the realization
that "winning" means simply
I am not yet bankrupt: I didn't lose all!

Yes, I am still in the game
practicing a hybrid
of monogamous masturbation
and polyamorous orgies
sharing with nary
a knack for compersion

Author's Notes/Comments: 

2002,  inspired from the following poem:


"Learned Helpfulness"

by Camus (Not Albert) 


I'm wired to live
like it's a game of Operation:
grasping at what I need
without tripping the wires,
setting people off.
Making small moves
to avoid losing everything.
Practice makes me pretty skilled:
since my nerves are tuned
to a grating alarm,
failure feels like obliteration.
Even surgical precision, though,
yields only a pile of plastic;
winning means
I didn't make a sound.
Maybe it's time to learn a new game.
I don't know how to put
the tweezers down.

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