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The Argument

I live during a boring time for art
Because, it seems, everyday new wars start.

Old men are busy carving up their maps
While young and middle-aged argue for scraps.

While women ache to be seen as humans
And queer-folks die silently by dozens.

No-one has got the time for poetry;
I think pop songs remain, that too barely;

That too because people yearn to forget
This is our civilization’s sunset.

I live during a boring time for art
But that’s not what these words aim to impart.

I wrote this verse and will write many more.
I’ll write even if atom bombs explode.

I’ll write even if I’ve just one limb left,
The rest dissolved in catastrophic heft.

Even if language itself starts rotting
My limb will gather sand, begin plotting.

Poetry by Sameen