04-10-2016, 01:31 AM
Edit3 (title change)
Cleaning Out My Desk
Don’t turn away in shame, my friend. You learned
the ropes from me, so now they’ve cut me loose.
You’re young, well-educated, and you spurned
your native land - flew here to be of use.
Your English jars, imperfect, though you speak
and read four languages - three more than I;
your hard-earned pay’s a pittance, and will peak
at less than mine however hard you try.
But what you earn, what you will learn here makes
you half as golden as a Party hack
back in your homeland. For your kindred’s sakes
work well, although you’re why I got the sack.
It’s not your striving, friend, that I resent;
what wounds us both is faithless government.
Edit2
Jobs: Americans Won’t Do II
Don’t turn away in shame, my friend. You learned
the ropes from me, so now they’ve cut me loose.
You’re young, well-educated, and you spurned
your native land - flew here to be of use.
Your English jars, imperfect, though you speak
and read four languages - three more than I;
your hard-earned pay’s a pittance, and will peak
at less than mine however hard you try.
But what you earn, what you will learn here makes
you half as golden as a Party hack
back in your homeland. For your kindred’s sakes
work well, although you’re why I got the sack.
It’s not your striving, friend, that I resent;
what wounds us both is crony government.
Edit1
Don’t turn away in shame, my friend. You learned
the ropes from me, so now they’ve cut me loose.
You’re young, well-educated, and you spurned
your native land - you flew to be of use.
Your English jars, imperfect, though you speak
and read four languages - three more than I;
your hard-earned pay’s a pittance, and will peak
at less than I got, not two-thirds as high.
But what you earn, what you will learn here makes
you half as golden as a Party hack
back in your homeland. For your kindred’s sakes
work well, although you’re why I got the sack.
This magic kingdom won’t embrace its own
while it’s allowed to import and to clone.
Original ;
Jobs: Americans Won’t Do
You ask, young students, old economists,
“Why won’t you bosses hire Americans?”
To see, just put yourselves here in my place
instead of trying to put me in mine.
It’s not that natives’ attitudes are bad
as some say, or because they’re so unskilled -
although malingerers are worth less than
they sponge by claiming “disability.”
But mainly it’s because each native comes
with such a vesting of surprise-bomb “rights”
that he or she can’t shed no matter what
they’d give to have the job, and yearn to work.
Those “rights,” unalienable, explain
why aliens, illegals, H1Bs,
are sought with smiles, to dodge catastrophes
of lawsuit, union grievance, baited traps
of racial hypersensitivity,
religious lags, strange genders, all with chips
nailed to their shoulders by bureaucracies
that lust to ruin any who employ
Americans, each cursed with bear-trap “rights.”
In my place you would hire a criminal
whose faults you knew, before a native son
whose tender feelings, hurt, could make you one.
Cleaning Out My Desk
Don’t turn away in shame, my friend. You learned
the ropes from me, so now they’ve cut me loose.
You’re young, well-educated, and you spurned
your native land - flew here to be of use.
Your English jars, imperfect, though you speak
and read four languages - three more than I;
your hard-earned pay’s a pittance, and will peak
at less than mine however hard you try.
But what you earn, what you will learn here makes
you half as golden as a Party hack
back in your homeland. For your kindred’s sakes
work well, although you’re why I got the sack.
It’s not your striving, friend, that I resent;
what wounds us both is faithless government.
Edit2
Jobs: Americans Won’t Do II
Don’t turn away in shame, my friend. You learned
the ropes from me, so now they’ve cut me loose.
You’re young, well-educated, and you spurned
your native land - flew here to be of use.
Your English jars, imperfect, though you speak
and read four languages - three more than I;
your hard-earned pay’s a pittance, and will peak
at less than mine however hard you try.
But what you earn, what you will learn here makes
you half as golden as a Party hack
back in your homeland. For your kindred’s sakes
work well, although you’re why I got the sack.
It’s not your striving, friend, that I resent;
what wounds us both is crony government.
Edit1
Don’t turn away in shame, my friend. You learned
the ropes from me, so now they’ve cut me loose.
You’re young, well-educated, and you spurned
your native land - you flew to be of use.
Your English jars, imperfect, though you speak
and read four languages - three more than I;
your hard-earned pay’s a pittance, and will peak
at less than I got, not two-thirds as high.
But what you earn, what you will learn here makes
you half as golden as a Party hack
back in your homeland. For your kindred’s sakes
work well, although you’re why I got the sack.
This magic kingdom won’t embrace its own
while it’s allowed to import and to clone.
Original ;
Jobs: Americans Won’t Do
You ask, young students, old economists,
“Why won’t you bosses hire Americans?”
To see, just put yourselves here in my place
instead of trying to put me in mine.
It’s not that natives’ attitudes are bad
as some say, or because they’re so unskilled -
although malingerers are worth less than
they sponge by claiming “disability.”
But mainly it’s because each native comes
with such a vesting of surprise-bomb “rights”
that he or she can’t shed no matter what
they’d give to have the job, and yearn to work.
Those “rights,” unalienable, explain
why aliens, illegals, H1Bs,
are sought with smiles, to dodge catastrophes
of lawsuit, union grievance, baited traps
of racial hypersensitivity,
religious lags, strange genders, all with chips
nailed to their shoulders by bureaucracies
that lust to ruin any who employ
Americans, each cursed with bear-trap “rights.”
In my place you would hire a criminal
whose faults you knew, before a native son
whose tender feelings, hurt, could make you one.
Non-practicing atheist