"Pick Up Your Meds"

You might have to fall in love
with the names these pharmaceutical
oligopolies give to medicine--
fantastic nouns with neon
syllables like zan, zac, zole,
perc, pram, lam, and zone. Even
the oligopolies have a
med-moniker: Big Pharma.

It's the synthetic language
of weary magic-acts from last
century plus the detached
lingo of advertising that is
always floating above our heads.

We learn the names quickly when
the stuff's prescribed to us
or when we buy it on the street.
We learn them not at all when
it's not or we don't.

We go between docs and pharmacists
as mere messengers. Our bodies
wait patiently like bovines
for the med-food to be added
to our cuds. Where

science, chemistry, capital,
ailment, and diagnosis meet,
chants from a hybrid incantation
get printed
on bottles that are never clear.


2015 hans ostrom

Two Important Activities

(based on found language, facebook)





In my retirement,
I do two important activities. First,
I always keep a close eye on my
stocks. Secondly,
we like to travel to new places.




hans ostrom, 2013

The Economy Needs the Poor

“The economy needs the poor,” says

a wee lad  on the precipice of a bachelor

of arts in economics to me. He’s the son

of some remote dickhead CEO in France

One of the brightest students I’ve ever taught,

a Black and Latina woman from

Oakland (she likes the 49ers, I like the

Raiders, we riff on that) says, “The

political science students on campus

are the least culturally competent—

they’re not equipped for this society.”

Today, this month, November 2012,

I think, well, Whiteness will have its

way: cocaine-speed-meth capitalism, fuck-you-

we’re going to fucking war, if you’re a

thinking person, then go fuck yourself,

we will dominate you, we always have,

so suck our illiterate radioactive dicks.

 

Old, I wish to God it would be different

for the thinking young I know.  You don’t

know how much I wish that this were so.

I wish God would empower them.

And then I look at the mainstream shit

they all must countenance, and I think,

“God damn it, the demons have won.

The motherfucking super-rich have won.”

Hans Ostrom, 2012

Thank You, Rogers

Thank you, Rogers, for your fine report
on our profit-outlook. You're fired. It's
a matter of over-head. Consult the
etymology of "capital" and work
on your resume, you diligent piece
of human resources.  As for the rest

of you: Fuck off. I got my bonus,
dare me to justify it, I win, you lose:
I am the point at which nihilism
and profit meet, baby.  There's nothing
like the high you get from sniffing
the spore from the lip of the
titanium-lined abyss.

I go to church, there is no God,
I wave the flag, there is no nation,
I fund a family for whom I'm alien,
there is no nature, it's raw material,
and long-range planning is
what suckers do. Toodle-oo.

The game is to sell tomorrow
today.  Rogers, be on your way.


Copyright Hans Ostrom 2012