Nonsense Masquerading as Social Commentary

The trireme, brought through the storm by
Oarsmen, slaves, almost 200, had, at least,
Somewhere to go, a purpose, which I, on
My blown-up raft, propelled by weakling
Arms, do not.  Post-modern life is hard.
The gods have died.  The kings and queens
No longer rule.  What they are are dashboard
Figurines, whose heads, on springs, amuse,
And, as the oligopolists, the ones who pushed
The monarchs out, grow richer, they seek
Bigger boats, but, given all the criticism
They endure for burning fuel, some consider
Triremes, and I consider thinking of a reason
To employ my arms to flutter toward the shore.





Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 36 times
Written on 2022-08-02 at 03:20

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Sameen
Yeah, like Blur said: Modern Life is Rubbish. I reckon life was always rubbish.
2022-08-05


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
I'm with Dougie on this one, Lawrence. You do social commentary extremely well and it is always well aimed.
Allen
2022-08-03


D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
More like social commentary masquerading as poetry Lawrence. I liked the imagery you evoke of our brave new world; keep on paddling friend.
2022-08-03