THE BALLAD OF A CHEMICAL PLANT MANAGER, Christopher Wood-Robbins

BALLAD OF A CHEMICAL PLANT MANAGER
by Christopher Wood-Robbins

I run the Harbor Chemical Plant
I’m the Duke of Industry.
I pour it out to protect my job,
A gift from me to me.

They call us the “Up Set, w/ black hats and blue eyes”,
And accuse us of spoiling the sea.
To hell with them, I earned this rank,
A gift from me to me.

They claim that we are raping to death
Our heritage shamelessly,
But what is the worth of animal life
Compared to society?

So let the bough break and let the rain fall,
I deserve this prosperity
And as long as I breathe, I’ll fight to keep
This gift from me to me.

Safe in my palace, away from the crowd,
I order the maître d’
To serve me a cocktail and seafood brunch,
A gift from me to me.

But what is this? I fall to the floor!
And I can no longer see
Except for a background of white all around
And a trip to eternity.

As my life flickers out, I find no doubt,
It’s the fish I ate, you see.
I poured it in, God gave it back,
A gift from me to me.
Christopher Wood-Robbins, who prefers to be called “Aspie Chris” in his writings, lives in Central Massachusetts with his wife, Julie, and their tortoise-shell attack cat, Samantha. He often advocates for autism and asperger acceptance at open mics just to “add another shade to the rainbow of diversity.”
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