The fault lies with my grandparents.
Quintessential immigrants
Who did not speak of equality,
And believed in family and socialism.
Having absolved myself of responsibility
I can move to more proximate culprits;
For parents who wanted to “get ahead”.
Education and financial security were their hallmarks.
From where I stand the terrain appears uneven.
Peaks have risen, the valleys deeper.
Transit between them has become harder,
And the coming revolution will be brutal.
My sympathies cannot bear inspection.
I’ve shown little disinterest in comfortable living.
I think of a kibbutz as a grand experiment
That was not designed for me.
I am , cynicism not withstanding,
Awed by those who choose,
Not as a senior in search of redemption,
Meaning over means.
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