el sup
el sup is Macros, he is nothing...he is tired of the drudge of
working at the check out in Dunnes Stores, of wrapping double
whoppers in Burger King, of trying to please a manager who looks at
you but sees only quotas. el sup is full of hatred, for the cops who
stop you on your way home in the early hours of the morning, for rent
week, for the bills that tie you to the job that milks you of all
desire except to switch on the television when you get home, for the
fact that it's five more days till dole day, for your own pathetic
efforts to better yourself through an education that teaches you
nothing and offers you nothing but a better choice from the shelves
of boredom in the career supermarket, el sup is still in gaol while
murderers walk free, el sup is a Palestinian in Israel,...a pacifist
in Bosnia, a housewife alone on a Saturday night in any neighbourhood
of any city, a traveller who can't get served in a pub or find a half
way decent site with water or facilities. el sup can't love who he
wants. el sup can't live with who she likes because of a decision she
made when she was too young to know any better. el sup is consuming
pints or books or records or clothes in the hope of finding an
answer. el sup stays alone or sleeps around or goes out with mates
and is still alone, el sup walks into a bar and meets all stares and
no smiles. el sup is getting up in the morning to face the fireworks,
el sup is coming down. el sup is tired, tired of sitting, asking what
is to be done. el sup is me and you. el sup is the Mexican indians
who have no land in their own land. el sup is everyone who says
ENOUGH.
BE A ZAPATISTA WHEREVER YOU ARE
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