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"Gig Economy Tonsils” is a haunting commentary on the unending cycles of labor, addiction, and the dehumanization of the working class within the modern economy. The title itself evokes a tension between the body’s biological needs—like tonsils, part of the immune system—and the disposable nature of labor under late capitalism, where even our organs might feel like they are consumed by the demands of a ‘gig economy.’ This reference to tonsils hints at something once vital but now taken for granted or removed, much like the human spirit eroded by the pressures of endless toil and addiction.

The poem immediately confronts us with a bleak worldview. "No retirement in living sight, their manta ‘shit, ain’t none for eating either’" suggests that for the poem’s subjects—likely fentanyl-addicted laborers—there is no respite, no end in sight, no retirement from their lives of grind. The concept of retirement, typically a hopeful goal at the end of a working life, is inverted here, with the drug addicts rationalizing that there is no retirement from eating, so why should their addiction be any different? The poem cleverly critiques this rationalization, showing how addiction becomes another form of labor, one they can never escape because survival itself demands constant consumption. Just as eating is essential for life, so too does addiction become essential for enduring the drudgery of existence.

Further, the drug use is portrayed as a product of systemic neglect, captured in the line “Xmas, Easter, just hollow markers of a world in withdrawal." These major holidays, usually associated with family, renewal, and celebration, are rendered meaningless, mere markers in a calendar devoid of meaning. The juxtaposition of sacred holidays with the phrase “world in withdrawal” draws attention to the widespread emotional and physical withdrawal from life itself that accompanies addiction and endless work. The poem suggests that these traditional markers of meaning have been hollowed out by a society that prioritizes profit over people, leaving behind a populace that grinds through their lives in a fog of fentanyl and empty celebrations.

The poem also reflects on the nature of survival in a capitalistic society that never allows for rest. The fentanyl-addicted subjects are “grinding now triple shifts to stay falling,” a vivid metaphor that highlights how the endless hustle and gig economy mentality extend even to the world of addiction. These addicts, like gig workers, must constantly hustle just to survive, but rather than upward mobility or stability, their efforts lead only to a slow fall. They orbit life as if satellites, “not sharply enough to crash.” The satellite imagery underscores the sense of detachment and isolation, drifting through life in an endless, futile orbit, never quite crashing but always spiraling downward. This speaks to the nature of addiction and late capitalism alike: an unbreakable cycle that consumes both the body and the spirit, with no final conclusion—only slow decline.

The poem touches on the deep societal failure to address this condition. While drug addicts are dismissed and forgotten by society, this poem insists that their experience is emblematic of a much larger crisis: one where work, addiction, and survival are indistinguishable. The comparison between addiction and the basic need to eat blurs the line between necessity and vice, showing how even our most essential human functions have become entangled with the destructive forces of labor exploitation and capitalist survival mechanisms.

In sum, “Gig Economy Tonsils” exposes the interconnectedness of addiction, labor, and survival in a world where there is no final rest, no redemption from the grind—whether that grind is work or addiction. The poem deftly critiques both the personal rationalization of addiction and the systemic forces that create an endless cycle of consumption, where even drug use becomes another form of labor in a life with no retirement.

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