another life
so partial
to the livery
the only one
in us
we poke and
we prod
we produce
and we sod
all manner of goods
for consumption
but the consumption
is us
and notwithstanding
we are it
joyless
unrepentant
consumers
tempted
innocent
unaware
of the cage
we're in
a pretty one
a lot to do about
but what do we know
our life cut short
a distant memory
to be dispatched
in waiting eternity
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem