In the Garden

We live out Bosch's fantasies, a mass of wretches
Turned expertly toward each other, told to kill.
A poor man drives his battered car to prison
To watch over those who are worth less than he.
A woman shops to curse the clerks. The scabs
Destroy the union jobs, and boys and girls who
Haven't got the money to go on in school
Go overseas to slaughter boys and girls from
Another land, and, everywhere above the carnage,
Smirking at the lethal blows, the blood and bodies,
Tears and sorrow, are the monsters. So well fed,
They sew, and then they reap and feast on what
Becomes of wretches who are turned,
And told to kill.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 39 times
Written on 2017-12-02 at 00:15

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