intransigent

it’d be absolute bliss,
but laying in the bed they make
is just one part of the reward.

with the morning squeeze
of orange juice and eye lids
opening the pours
and letting the rays in
and letting the liquid out
they’d admire what they’ve accomplished.

they’d lay there,
waiting on their help
and wishing nothing but congratulations
for their accomplishments
of the minions that have managed to
make it all work for their favour.

but priorities are lost in between the yawns
of executive wake up calls.

it’d be absolute bliss,
only because when nothing really matters
what matters is the unrecognisable reality of what exists.

I exist.
and not alone.

the unknown subsist because
we have to,
for they would like us to fail.

the undisclosed manage because
they know otherwise,
their numbers would peak and plummet, too.

the nameless persist because
they like revelling, too, in the bliss,
the elation of what it is like to prevent their success.

it’d be a benediction,
that morning,
when we all awake and squeeze
oxygen into our chest caverns,
illuminate our pupils and admire our achievements,
for this world exists,
these people exist,
and this intransigent remains
ready for action.