The law says that your employer does not steal anything from you, because it is done with your consent. You have agreed to work for your boss for certain pay, he to have all that you produce. Because you consented to it, the law says that he does not steal anything from you.
But did you really consent?
When the highwayman holds his gun to your head, you turn your valuables over to him. You ‘consent’ all right, but you do so because you cannot help yourself, because you are compelled by his gun.
Are you not compelled to work for an employer? Your need compels you, just as the highwayman’s gun. You must live, and so must your wife and children. You can’t work for yourself, under the capitalist industrial system you must work for an employer. The factories, machinery, and tools belong to the employing class, so you must hire yourself out to that class in order to work and live. Whatever you work at, whoever your employer may be, it always comes to the same: you must work for him. You can’t help yourself. You are compelled.
I thought the sky bled for you. Ruins. Barcelona. You wanted to visit Spain. Dry lips, palms flat on the wheel. The radio played low, ignition spitting over. Cold showers in motels on dirt roads. The highway, long black strips like duct tape. Fucking in a gas station once. You drove too fast, too close to the railings, to the coast. My stomach grinds, teeth coated in a tar. I bled for you too.