A poem by Brian Siwka.
Every decision you make
affects every facet of every other thing.
And in the end, you’re alone
with your thoughts.
But very little
was really your decision,
and your thoughts
don’t count for much.
It’s money that matters:
where you get it, and from who.
You think you’re in control,
or think someone else is.
You’re not,
and they’re not.
If Marx never learned to read,
someone would have written
the manifesto anyway.
But still,
our future is unwritten.
That’s dialectical materialism.
