Engine Poem by Lev Brekhman
Engine
This state... or condition... is akin to a trance.
A quantity of vodka or cognac...
I tried it, sure, more than once,
Soon losing with myself contact.
Maybe we're searching for contacts with God?
But does He drink? Hard to imagine
Being so lonely, we are becoming - what?
Self-perpetuating, weak and a drunken engine.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: irony
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5/6/2024 2:05:51 PM # 1.0.0.1119
