Greed
By Philip Schultz
My ocean town struggles to pick up leaves,
offer summer school, and keep our library open.
Every day now more men stand at the railroad station,
waiting to be chosen for work.
Because it’s thought the Hispanics will work for less
they get picked first, while the whites and blacks
avoid the terror in one another’s eyes.
Our handyman, Santos, who expects only what his hands earn,
is proud of his half acre in Guatemala,
where he plans to retire.
His desire to proceed with dignity is admirable, but he knows
that now no one retires, everyone works harder.
My father imagined a life more satisfying
than the one he managed to lead.
He didn’t see himself as uneducated, thwarted,
or bitter, but soon-to-be rich.
Being rich was his right, he believed.
Happiness, I used to think, was a necessary illusion.
Now I think it’s just precious moments of relief,
like dreams of Guatemala.
Sometimes, at night, in winter, surrounded by
the significant silence of empty mansions,
which once were cottages, where people lived their lives,
and now are owned by banks and the absent rich,
I like to stand at my window,
looking for a tv’s futile flickering,
always surprised to see instead the quaint, porous face
of my reflection, immersed in its one abundance.
offer summer school, and keep our library open.
Every day now more men stand at the railroad station,
waiting to be chosen for work.
Because it’s thought the Hispanics will work for less
they get picked first, while the whites and blacks
avoid the terror in one another’s eyes.
Our handyman, Santos, who expects only what his hands earn,
is proud of his half acre in Guatemala,
where he plans to retire.
His desire to proceed with dignity is admirable, but he knows
that now no one retires, everyone works harder.
My father imagined a life more satisfying
than the one he managed to lead.
He didn’t see himself as uneducated, thwarted,
or bitter, but soon-to-be rich.
Being rich was his right, he believed.
Happiness, I used to think, was a necessary illusion.
Now I think it’s just precious moments of relief,
like dreams of Guatemala.
Sometimes, at night, in winter, surrounded by
the significant silence of empty mansions,
which once were cottages, where people lived their lives,
and now are owned by banks and the absent rich,
I like to stand at my window,
looking for a tv’s futile flickering,
always surprised to see instead the quaint, porous face
of my reflection, immersed in its one abundance.
"surrounded by the significant silence" - alliteration
"Happiness ... was a necessary illusion" - metaphor
"Happiness ... was a necessary illusion" - metaphor
analysis
The poem Greed by Philip Schultz is an excellent example of upper class and lower class in one poem. Mr. Schultz writes about how the town is struggling just to provide basic services. "My ocean town struggles to pick up leaves" (Schultz 1), offer summer school, and keep our library open" (Schultz 2). He continues telling how hard it is for people to find jobs to support themselves. "Every day now more men stand at the railroad station" (Schultz 3), "waiting to be chosen for work" (Schultz 4). Mr. Schultz writes that Hispanics get chosen for jobs before white people and black people because employers believe Hispanics will take less money to work. The lower class is scared and worried about the future. That's the problem they have. The person in the poem is wealthy. He says, "Our handyman, Santos, who expects only what his hands earn" (Schultz 8). If he was poor he would not have a handyman. The handyman, Santos, is Hispanic. That goes back to the earlier comment about Hispanics. You can tell Santos is Hispanic because he has, "his half acre in Guatemala" (Schultz 9). The father of the person in the poem wasn't wealthy. The father believed he had a right to be rich. The person in the poem must have earned his own money. He didn't inherit it. Therefore, he has lived in both the lower class and the upper class. Many of his wealthy neighbors have lost their homes. He notes, " ... the significant silence of empty mansions" (Schultz 22). He continues, " ... now are owned by banks and the absent rich" (Schultz 24). He seems lonely and sad. That's the problem he has. Being in the upper class isn't always wonderful or easy. It is also difficult to be in the lower class and worrying about money. Both classes have their own problems to deal with.