To Respire is to Aspire

Notwithstanding the nattering of gurus of various
Stripes, the ones in robes and those in suits,who
Promise release from the chains of desire,
Chains cinched tighter by scavengers bent
On buying vast quantities of your time with
Toxic TV pablum, aspiration seeps into one's
Mind. I'm away. That's good. I don't like
Where I am. I can look down the hill at
The Las Vegas Strip (speaking of pablum),
But I can't go. I am trapped in the tomb
That my mother has made for herself.
She's in it. She'd rather not leave. Instead,
She sits. The TV's on (surprise), and she,
Though living, is nothing but memories now,
Each one always repeating. I myself feel
Pretty much finished with life. The scavengers'
Snares slip off of me. I don't need a car,
A loan, a house, or any of the shit that they
Want me to buy. I actually don't want to visit
Strip. Notwithstanding the fact that those gurus
Are frauds, what I want is to find peace of mind.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 11 times
Written on 2020-01-20 at 17:20

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