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Eden's asp is franchised now. The serpent
Which led Eve astray has acolytes, some
Asps, some asses, whispering the fabrications
Which can cloud untutored minds,
And such minds clog the garden's grounds.
The asps say, “Hear me only. Go, and hone
Your hatred. Life beyond the garden's walls
Is dog eat dog. Don't be consumed. Attack.
Protect. Forget all thought of common good
Or tolerance. The god who made you out
Of mud has gone. Now you belong to me,
And I and all my understudies see no point
To turning back. Our money's made
Promoting conflict. Draw your guns and shoot
To kill, and also buy the products all
The asps and asses, franchisees, promote.
Let us metastisize. The garden's gone.
Don't long for it. Just let us make a buck.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 26 times
Written on 2020-11-06 at 01:47

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