All That is Good About the Renaissance

We move from room to room in silence, passing
Endless Virgin Marys, baby Saviors, dour
Nobles, hazy Tuscan countrysides. We cannot
Smell the Renaissance, which, doubtless, didn't
Smell too good. We needn't skirt the open sewers,
Pray (in splendid old cathedrals) that we will be
Spared the plague. We only get one piece of it,
Its art, the single piece we'd like, as we've no use
For priests or lords, or overbearing, vengeful
Gods, and surely not for pregnancies arising
Without sex.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 27 times
Written on 2020-02-14 at 21:06

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Liam The PoetBay support member heart!
I enjoyed the reading of this.