Shoddy Material, Shoddy Product

What if I told you the music has gotten
To be a burden and language annoys me?
The thought of wrenching more art from
A mind, a milieu gone barren, scarred not
So much by the rise in temperatures as by
The incessant howl of the peddlers of lies
And nonsense, spin, simple shittiness.
What kind of purse from such ears should
I make, should I try to make? Why do I
Bother trying? A lingua so cheapened as
Ours lacks the substance to be hammered
On and transformed into art. Let it lay
In the gutter, and I'll shut my mouth,
Throw my burden down with it, and head
South to learn to speak something unsullied,
Maybe Guarani, instead.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 43 times
Written on 2021-05-18 at 00:38

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