Supine Virtue

I'm not Piers Ploughman. Trust me, dear.
I'm fine with enforced idleness. My doctor
Told me to not labor, so I won't. I feel
No guilt. In fact, I'm feeling virtuous.
So much that humans do does harm.
They poison water and the air. They
Level forests, pave the plains, and set
Upon each other, leaving corpses
Rotting in the sun. By such lights,
Sloth seems most benign, and
Ploughman, not your inert lover,
Is the one who's found to sin.
I'll wash my hands and doze
Outside. The weather should be
Warm today, and, like the saints,
Who I resemble, I entreat you.
Come to visit. Sit. Be good
With me.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 53 times
Written on 2016-11-04 at 15:31

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