The Sad Plight Of Progress... Poem by RIC BASTASA

then everything we have
is worded separately, not just
two cups, or the usual
toothbrush, for now it has
conflagrated like an australian
forest fire

separate beds, separate dreams
separate ways, separate expenses
separate houses, separate cars
separate vacations

how have we changed since the time
we have learned to know that we can
be on our own with our separate money?

we have not grown so well
we have not learned our lessons well

in poverty and need we once were one
united in despair
companions in sorrow
best friends in grief

what has this riches provided us?

there is no more pillow for two heads
no common light for one book
no common handkerchief for our own tears.