POEM: Flocking Boss Leaves Behind Their Helm

He new
Not the least bit sheepishly
Just saying
I am not the boss of ewes
And ewes not the boss of me

This is perhaps my first poem that might be best read with a New Jersey accent.  This poem may very well be a tribute to a budding anarchist, one who newly recognizes that is best lived as neither the boss of others nor the subject of bosses.  Such a way of living springs from a and holistic that bossing others around is an insult to the fullness of of all.  Plus, throwing off the rule of bosses demands and fortitude, perhaps not a little bit ironically, “like a boss” — though channeled to being the boss of one’s own , not a boss lording over others.  This poem also accents the boss-like of sheepishly following other sheep, where cowardly complicity in the face of bosses diminishes us all.  If you should seek to master such boss-less living, may you find ever new ways to live as equal partners with other people and all living beings, neither lording over or shrinking below.

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