And all of those poets with glowing words,
liberating the condition.
I laugh. What condition
s that? Sloshing from my glass,
splashing on my face.
The human condition? Please.
The human condition I know is one that could not
be measured with perfect rhyme schemes.
The societal condition? Much as I’d like them
to be, daisies and mountains are not substantial
evidence of our societal condition.
We are not with the daisies and mountains, we
are with the fumes and the buildings.
Ain’t no contemporary Wordsworths here.
To paraphrase Sandburg, we are walking through
life under neon signs, which sell stuff for loot.
And, we’re buying. Lord, but we are buying.
9-7-96
2:12 AM
***
Not much of note came before this one. There was “Trespasser,” “Ziggle Zaggle, “Drinkslinger’s Lament,” and “Correspondence with Charlotte, NC” and then this. It’s another one that isn’t as heinous as I would have thought. Hope you find some value in it. Be well.
