A Man Without a Purpose

The absolute need of man is purpose

Our guttural plea asserts that our primary necessities

Are food, health, shelter or some combination of rudimentary survival

While these may sustain respiration and fecal excretion cycles

They are in fact dependent to man’s capability to find purpose 

We are a super-organism interdependent much like an ant in its hill

While we may appear to be drifting in illogical pacing patterns

From a distance we are invariably aware that there is disbursed-society

Of humans on this planet and capable of processing the hierarchy  

Of similar and potentially higher-functioning beings on other planets

Assigned by the systematic gravity of mass in universes stacked like filing cabinets

As well as that of the lower-functioning animals of our private-rock

So in we are subconsciously, if not consciously cognizant of this predicament 

As a precept to any thought that reverberates through our conscious choice

Therein I would argue, that a man without a purpose is most dangerous to us all

For a man without a purpose is unstable, fidgety, wanting, hungry

For his place in a line to assemble a justification for his existence and rationalize  

Fueling these other needs that elementary-school propagandists would have us digest

Trump the very mission of our endeavors which is not to assimilate,

But in fact to be of action inside our internal drives, to move the cogs as part of the all

Some by mind, some by hand, some by spirit, but in all there is purpose  

For when we as a collective fail to recognize this necessity our walls fissure and our lakes poison

For us to hand a man a plus-two we get a plus-eight up to a threshold,

If we give zero we may end up with a minus-twelve, for we cannot hand man bread or fish

We must abide by the adage of teaching and

Facilitating an avenue of purpose with shovels and nets 

This is most known, however neglected by ignoring the mathematics of macroeconomics

Floating around us in a digital universe that all we must do is simply breathe,

Yet we are so reluctant to recognize the thresholds of man which it takes for

A daily nutrition, permanence in bedding, and an allotment for savings for times of drought 

The failure to recognize this pattern brings most heinous destitution to the collective

It is as if we fed only a super-ant at which the gargantuan would but start feeding

On the workers who had assembled his genealogy to subsist until the hill ticked to extinction

This is a fable of robots and Foxconn and drug-cartel public-safety budgets and  

The vicious psychology of the Wal-Mart principle of lowest-common-denominator

In the absolute and which point the line of purpose-less men wraps interstate after interstate

In a parade-audience of trillions asking, wanting only to work, but made feckless

By the immortality of the classic prisoner’s dilemma, and so we choose

And only by internalizing our macro-level costs of the minus-twelve with the plus-zero

Will we ever see why the plus-two is so advantageous to us all  

Not a plus-four or a plus-six, for that deflates man’s will to labor,

But this margin of knowledge shall not be lost to time covered

By the prophecies by those who claim miracles and fantastical deeds

Believed by the masses without reason, for in this the ant grows as if his flesh  

Will somehow be shared amongst them, trickling-down if you will,

In flaky-food, yet void of providing a purpose but to bow and worship

Such allowance of nutrition, so in this we see the true value

Of purpose to a man wielding his own as in shovel and net  

So wary! So wary we must be to take away such tools of dignity

For without which man is known to self-destruct,

Ignite himself like a Tunisian fruit salesman exhausted for his scale  

Know the precipice of man teetering

See it in the air about your thoughts

For it is apparent in this hilled kingdom, on our bitty rock that

Is as they say not-too-big- to-fail