Living Room Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Pithy saints of the seventh wave
Democracy becomes the flesh
The will of all the fallen flesh
Technology sleeps with the flesh
No perfect union
No Greek ideal
Walden Pond a little shrine

Fly with me into the Vermeer cloth
Folds like heavenly sky
MilkyWay in infra red

I don't blame you for buying happiness
We all want doors that change our life
String quartet plays the golden age
Black and white photographs
It's time my living room has something new
Something old yet relevant

Join me for a fruit salad
A woman's touch with her magic smile
Cooking still is vogue
Perception unclouded by the chase
Romance as subtle as a change of font
The slightest fragrance of perfume
We must keep the world out
A home is a fragile spirit
My living room wall needs something nice