Billable Hours

To them we are mere galley slaves
Hands born for pulling master oars
Ears bent to catch commands and raves
Yet stowed below dank poop-deck floors.
We row fueled on burning rage
As gritted teeth below wild eyes,
Long lusterless in this dark cage,
Keep grinding on the Captains’ lies.
And paying ‘lubbers at the docs
Oblivious to the sly rats
Which flee from ship to island rocks
Only see us all as pirates.

Read they not the dangerous
Knowledge lesson of Spartacus?