Lovely Lives

Oh, Marlene, you're right. What we are
Living is a lovely life. Your home is
Filled with pretty things. The music
On your stereo is glorious, The Rite
Of Spring, and we, of course, are
Clean and placid, nibbling cheese
And drinking wine, and dedicating
Words and thoughts to notions
Which are quite refined, and both
Of us are dressed to kill. Alas, the
Violence of that term enables it to grow
From one small speck within the sky
Into a sullen mass of clouds which
Cast a shadow over us. How have
We found such pleasantness? How
Do we keep it as the world, elsewhere,
Out of sight of us, is filled with chaos,
War and death, starvation, hatred,
Hierarchy, big men beating little
Men and women, slavery, envy,
Sorrow, foul deeds being done for
Us by our own species to our species.
Someone's blood buys all these
Things which please us in this
Splendid house, and only by not
Seeing it can we go on believing
That we're living lovely lives.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 51 times
Written on 2017-02-25 at 16:11

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text