If I could borrow a mind,
I'd spend a day as Sherlock Holmes.
No, make that a lifetime.
Chemicals dissolve solids,
but not in such a way
as Holmes' mind could
break down a
Deduction; the science of coming to a point.
So forgive me if I haven't reached mine yet.
It takes time to reach the peak,
but if your interest has not yet piqued
before the summit,
why you're trying
to conquer Everest.
My Everest is more of a Rushmore.
Or, a Capital Hill.
But most literally,
it is a Goldman Sach.
The idea of making money
out of other people's misfotunes,
And the wicked extent that some are willing to go
as they lift their avarice
to the highest of platforms
is not unlike
the lifting of a beam
to the top of the Sears building,
as the edifice of business, the (non)ethics of progress,
casts its shadow of promise and low-prices over the hemorrahging city below.
You ask me what I would change, had I anything.
Well, it would not be something simple,
like ending poverty.
No, that is far too easy,
and it isn't punitive enough for those who have made their living
by climbing Mount Never-rest,
as the people who've worked their fingers to the bone
weep silently and bite their tongues
to muffle their cries
as they are crushed under the weight of Brooks Brothers boots that they once aspired to fill,
but now collapse under.
And it would not be something ridiculous,
like reforming human nature,
and removing greed and ignorance from the equation.
(Wo)mankind needs aspiration (even overt, and excessive, and ugly aspiration)
to help them press on.
(Wo)mankind needs their morbid curiousity, and tireless charge,
to keep on the march of progress.
In fact, I praise the parade.
But in recent years, she's sounded less like Sousa,
and more like Stalin.
The driving beat
hums like an aggressive, custom Bentley
as it runs down and beats down
on the backs of labourers who have lost the will to try and stand up from the road they've built.
If I could change one thing, I would dig my hands into the music of progressivism,
and tune the piano.
Because the E is bouncing,
and the resident of the A-flat
at the very top of Park Avenue,
is severely off-key with the rest of humanity.
If I could change one thing,
I would use my mind (not nearly Sherlock's, but perhaps good enough)
to deduce the problems with our economic system,
and offer a solution,
that sacrifices neither good, harmless ambition,
nor the promise of life and livelihood for all.
Deduction; the underlying principle of diagnostics.
I'm no doctor,
but if I could change anything,
I would cure the ailing global and domestic economies,
prescribe something cherry-flavoured for international relations,
(who doesn't love cherries?)
and release the stranglehold that the finance industry has
on our individual necks.
And I would be home just in time for tea.