Adrift

My eyes move along the words as two dead fish
Would bump along the river bottom: utterly
Uncomprehending. Earthquakes help the Turks
To kill off Kurds. The dollar's gaining ground.
The president is contradicting his most recent
Contradiction. Minions of the oligarchs
Are fanning out before the sun has risen,
Stuffing envelopes of cash into our legislators'
Pockets. Five fine men in robes (they're black
These days; the riffraff still wear white) oppress
The needy ever further, sternly pounding
With their gavel. Shrugs; that's how the world
Works. Nobody's heating up the tar. The feathers
Are in bags. My fish eyes bump past such rocks
Unseeing. How much can I care? The one I want
Is far away, so far I cannot hope to see her.
I can do no more than this: pretend to read
While wishing she was near.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 45 times
Written on 2017-11-13 at 14:00

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