with compliments to 'Penfold' for 'The Enemy'
Leave me in peace from all this morbid stress,
where competition has been made the law of laws
encouraging all and everyone to beat each other
in the universal junk production
where the only thing that counts is quantity
so that the worst can only win
by stifling all the lesser quantities;
wherefore we have this junk society,
this planet drowned in junk and litter,
this by man's shit poisoned world,
the sickness and morbidity of which
accelerates by the same rate as
the explosion of the population,
five times doubled in a hundred years.
Please spare me all this massive dirt,
this universal medial brainwash
which insists on burying alive all decent culture
and on turning man into self-multiplying robots.
Making your career by lobbying intrigues
and manipulative manoeuvres
only gives you dirty hands that never can be washed.
What has become of honesty and decency?
Does it still exist at all in spite of all?
Perhaps we might still find it in the junkyard.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 396 times
Written on 2008-12-12 at 19:00
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The junk society
Leave me in peace from all this morbid stress,
where competition has been made the law of laws
encouraging all and everyone to beat each other
in the universal junk production
where the only thing that counts is quantity
so that the worst can only win
by stifling all the lesser quantities;
wherefore we have this junk society,
this planet drowned in junk and litter,
this by man's shit poisoned world,
the sickness and morbidity of which
accelerates by the same rate as
the explosion of the population,
five times doubled in a hundred years.
Please spare me all this massive dirt,
this universal medial brainwash
which insists on burying alive all decent culture
and on turning man into self-multiplying robots.
Making your career by lobbying intrigues
and manipulative manoeuvres
only gives you dirty hands that never can be washed.
What has become of honesty and decency?
Does it still exist at all in spite of all?
Perhaps we might still find it in the junkyard.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 396 times
Written on 2008-12-12 at 19:00
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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